


Glee, Eventually

by Beshrew_My_Very_Heart



Series: Glee, Eventually-verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Blackmail, Bullying, Darkest Timeline, Episode: s04e10 Glee Actually, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 60,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27178579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beshrew_My_Very_Heart/pseuds/Beshrew_My_Very_Heart
Summary: Kurt Hummel is sure he lives in the darkest possible timeline. He has no friends, no outlet for his creative expression, and he’s constantly hounded by Hudson, and his thugs; Abrams, Puckerman and Evans. By sheer chance, he comes across an opportunity to change his situation, but can he let go of a sure thing, for the chance at something better?
Relationships: David Karofsky/Noah Puckerman, Mike Chang/Tina Cohen-Chang, Sam Evans/Kurt Hummel
Series: Glee, Eventually-verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021675
Comments: 67
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is loosely based on the Alternate Universe seen in the episode Glee, Actually. However it diverges from that universe around the second season, making it... an Alternate Universe of an Alternate Universe? 
> 
> Similar to the Glee Actually episode, several characters in this fic are the worst versions of themselves. This isn't a reflection on what they're like in the main timeline, just on my interpretation of the glimpse we see of them in the episode.

In his Junior Year, Kurt realised that his situation was not going to improve. The exact moment the realisation hit was as Puckerman and Hudson toss him into the dumpster with enough force that the trash bag beneath him bursts open, and was punctuated as Abrams steps up, and opens a quart of spoilt milk, letting it splatter all over Kurt as he stared up at the hollering jocks. This was going to be every day until he left Lima. 

This was his life, and there was no escaping it.

He didn’t make it to first period, or most of second. Coach Tanaka allowed him to use the showers, but it didn’t feel like a kindness. It just felt like a way of making sure Kurt didn’t have to tell his dad how bad things really were at school. 

Because things were bad. Kurt had no-one at this school. He ate lunch alone, he sat alone, he didn’t participate in classes. He dressed as masculine as his fashion sense would allow, and hoarded money, just in case the terror that he lived in might one day become heavier than his love for his dad. He knew what would happen then. He'd get a bus to the first place he could, and figure things out there. Get a job fixing clothes, or singing in a diner, or... who was he kidding, he'd take literally any job if it meant never coming back to Lima. 

The days just seemed to pass in a blur of terror. Things like being thrown against lockers, his books being flushed in the toilet, homework stolen, they all just became the regular events of his life. He barely looked up anymore, carrying his things tight to his chest, as though they would cushion any blows. He certainly didn’t sing, or dance, or perform. He did everything he could not to draw attention to himself.

At home, things were even tenser. His dad was mostly recovered from his heart attack, but with the medical bills, Kurt knew that he was struggling and taking on more and more shifts at the garage. He still smiled at Kurt and told him everything was fine, but Kurt saw him come home late and fall asleep on the sofa more often than not. He hasn’t told his dad he was gay. He kept meaning to, to find a weekend when the world wasn’t so oppressive and just lay it out on the table. But the fear of another heart attack loomed, and the knowledge that... if his dad took it poorly, Kurt would have no reason to stay anymore. 

At least the assaults only happened at school. It turns out there is a twisted logic to it all, that destroying Kurt's life would be fine, but causing a guy to have a heart attack would cross the line. 

“Hey, Kurt,” Burt called from the top of the stairs, and Kurt did his best not to flinch as he put his book down. He didn't remember any of what he had been reading, too busy considering his current situation, and his dad's voice had jolted him back to awareness. “I, uh, got a call out. So, I'm going to have to miss dinner tonight.” 

“Okay.” Kurt nodded, forcing as genuine a smile as possible, as he put aside his maudlin thoughts and the book he had been reading. He glanced up to the windows of his basement bedroom, and wasn't surprised to see the skies had turned dark whilst he was distracted. “I'll cook something and put it in the fridge.” 

“No, Kurt, it’s fine. I’ll sort myself out.” Burt waved a hand dismissively, but there was a tightness to the gesture that felt out of place, “Why don't you order in a pizza for yourself, huh?” 

“We don’t have to spend money on that-" Kurt tried not to glance towards the glittering skull that hid his own money. “I can cook something.” 

“Kid, I didn’t get time to go to the store today. There isn’t much up there to cook. Just... do your dad a solid, and order a proper meal whilst I work? There’s money on top of the fridge.” 

Kurt let out a soft sigh, and then smiled again as brightly as he could, slipping off the bed and getting to his feet, so that he could give his dad a quick hug. “Okay, Dad. Do you have everything? Phone, Wallet, ID?” 

“Hey, who's the adult here?” Burt grinned and Kurt couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “I'll text when I get there, and I’ll text when I'm done, alright?” 

“It’s all I ask.” Kurt smiled as his dad said his goodbyes and made his way out into the evening. Kurt took a few moments to ensure that he had finished his homework and email it to himself. That way, if anyone got any ideas about flushing his stuff, he wouldn’t have to start from scratch. 

Upstairs in the kitchen, he grabbed the first pizza takeout menu from the draw, the one that the weird boy with an Irish accent had put on the windshield of the Navigator the other day, and when he ordered, he tried not to get riled up when the person on the other end of the phone muttered something unfriendly sounding after Kurt gave his address, about how he couldn't assure the temperature. If they weren't local, then they shouldn't be advertising so far away. As a matter of principle, Kurt stuck to his order and then tried to put it out of his mind, setting up the pillows and blankets near the couch in case his dad came home and fell asleep there again. He put something brain numbing on the TV, and waited for any kind of a phone call. 

It took more than an hour for anything to happen. Just as a car pulled up outside, Kurt's phone buzzed with a message, so he read it as he walked towards the door. His dad had just got to the job and it didn’t look like an easy one, so he might be out late. 

Kurt shot back a quick acknowledgement, his focus entirely on the screen as he opened the door and gestured to the table where they usually put letters without looking up. “Sorry, feel free to put it there, I'm just-" He hit the send button, and then glanced up. 

He could only watch as the pizza tumbled out of the delivery man's hand, flipping end over end, and splattered down in a gory mess all over the carpeting and Kurt's shoes. Kurt flinched at the impact, but didn't leap away. He knew the delivery man, he could imagine the blonde's face looking at him with complete disgust, the plump lips warning the others that someone was coming as they tossed him into the dumpster. As the panic set in, the name escaped him, but this was one of Hudson's friends. His mind kicked into high gear, as he glanced towards the bat that they kept behind the door, and then the phone in his hand as the jock started to mutter under his breath in a panic.

His fingers found the camera on his phone easily. But the football player was already on his hands and knees, carefully setting the small bag of sides to one side as he tried desperately to scoop the pizza back into the box. Kurt instinctively started recording, angling his phone to capture the moment, just in case the guy confessed to anything in his panic. 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, this is my fault, I wasn’t focusing and I just lost my grip! Shit, please don't call my boss. I really need this job.” The football player managed to scoop all the big bits of pizza back into the box, and as he carefully moved to stand, his eyes fell on the phone. “Fuck.” 

“Fuck indeed,” Kurt said, his voice tight in his throat, and his whole body coiled up as if unsure if he should leap away from the jock or go on the offensive. No, that was a lie, Kurt had given up the offensive a long time ago. Now the focus was on if he would be hurt more if he tried to run or just stayed put. “I’m going to have to call them anyway to ask for a replacement pizza-” 

“Please don’t, if you do, I’ll lose my job. I’ll... I’ll go and buy you one from somewhere nearby. Just, please don’t make me lose this job. I’ll do anything.” The Jock had literal tears in his eyes, and there was a very cruel, very dark part of Kurt that liked that. At McKinley he was weak, he was the victim, but here... 

“Do you have any other deliveries?” He asked, after a moment, and the jock shook his head sharply, clearly too upset to wonder why Kurt was asking. “Then you should come throw that in the trash whilst I work out what to do next.” 

The jock froze, and Kurt could see him considering his options and working out if it was safer to lose his job, or step into the lion’s den, and Gaga, it wasn’t healthy the thrill that sent up Kurt’s spine. Kurt let that shock of power propel his movements, stepping away from the door and back into the house. If this guy was going to follow him, he would. If not, then he wouldn’t. 

Just like he had expected the Jock stepped into the house, carefully stepping over the sauce stains on the carpet, and following Kurt to the kitchen. Kurt gestured towards the trash bin, and moved to the table, sitting on one side of the circle, and gesturing the guy to the other. He watched him slip awkwardly into the chair, and then put his phone on the table. “Before you get any violent ideas, I’ll warn you that my father is on his way home, and my phone will have uploaded the video to the Cloud by now. Even if you break it, I can access it quite easily. And I’ve become inured to violence, so you won’t get the password out of me.” 

Kurt watched as the jock looked down at his hands, and took him in properly. He was one of Hudson’s cronies, no two ways about it. He’d seen him with that little gang in the hallways, obviously dyed hair standing out amongst the three dark haired Neanderthals. “Evans,” he said after a moment, “Sam Evans. You moved here at the beginning of the year.” 

“Yeah, you know me from school,” Sam’s face split into a hopeful smile, and then he saw something on Kurt’s face, and it died on his face, “you... know me from school.” 

“Yes. I know you and all your football friends. It’s hard not to remember the people who make your life a living hell.” Kurt muttered, and then reached out to tap his phone and start a new recording. “So, you are Sam Evans?” 

“Are you... what are you doing?” 

Kurt sighed and stopped the recording, “You clearly want to keep your job, right?” 

“I need to keep my job,” Sam insisted, and Kurt could see his fingers suddenly dig sharply into his jeans. 

“Well, I need to not feel like I’m going to be found dead in a locker any day now,” Kurt said, gesturing to the phone, “So, blackmail.” 

“You’re making something to Blackmail me?” 

“No, I already have that. If you don’t confess to the things you and your friends do to me, I will drive to that charming little pizza shop, and raise such a fuss that they won’t even ask for the uniform back.” Kurt leaned forward, trying to exude as much menace as possible, “I might not be able to fight off you and your Neanderthal friends, but I’m excellent at customer service. You will be fired.” 

“Please don’t-” Sam started, and Kurt held up a hand to silence him. 

“So, I want a recording of you confessing and implicating all your football friends. That's where we start, and in exchange I won’t go over there.” Kurt tilted his head questioningly, “Any more questions?” 

“No. No, okay, if I do that, you’ll... you’re not going to go after my job?” 

“I’ll think about it,” Kurt shrugged, and started a new recording, “My Name is Kurt Hummel, and you are Sam Evans, correct?” 

“Yes, that’s me.” Sam said leaning forward towards the phone. 

“And you are aware I am recording this conversation, and give your consent?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.” Kurt leaned away from the phone and gestured to Sam, “Feel free.” 

“You want-” Sam swallowed and nodded, “Okay. I came to McKinley at the start of this year, and tried out for the football team. It was different to my old school, and I started doing things that I’m not proud of to fit in. Finn Hudson took me under his wing, and introduced me to his friends, Artie Abrams and Noah Puckerman-” 

Kurt sat and listened to Sam talk at the phone, detailing the times they had trapped Kurt in lockers, or slammed him against the wall. The dumpster tosses and the slushies, and every vile thing they’d done just because he was there and he was gay. Sam looked uncomfortable, and if Kurt was being generous, he might even say it was shame, but he’d given up on giving people the benefit of the doubt. 

“Thank you.” He said when Sam was clearly finished, and quickly reached across to take the phone back, saving the file and sending it to himself. “Not to sound like the Machiavelli in this situation, but... that’ll work perfectly.” 

“Work perfectly for what?” Sam frowned, his eyes jumping to the phone. “You’re going to show that to Principal Figgins?” 

“Maybe. There’s a lot of people I could show this too. Police, Lawyers. You’ve just confessed on tape to a prolonged terror of campaign against me for several months, including several physical assaults.” Kurt wiggled the phone pointedly. “If you didn’t want to lose your job, I’m guessing Juvenile Detention will be another thing on the ‘do not want’ list.” 

Sam’s jaw dropped, and then his eyes narrowed, “You’re smart.” 

“Thank you. I have a lot of free time.” Kurt narrowed his eyes right back. “I’ll work out what else I want in the days to come, obviously. I didn’t expect an opportunity like this to fall into my lap.” 

“I...” Sam took a breath, and closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, they were back to pleading. “Kurt, you’re a good guy-” 

“Like you would know one way or the other. We’ve never spoken beyond you all threatening me.” Kurt scoffed, “You’re not going to appeal to my better nature, more than this-” he tapped his phone “-appeals to my ability to actually feel safe.” 

Sam shook his head and grit his teeth, “Look, I understand that you think this is going to fix everything for you, but it won’t. It’ll destroy me and my family, but Hudson will just tell everyone I was jealous about not getting Quarterback, and so I decided to try and drag him down. Puckerman and Abrams will back him up, and... you know how this works.” 

Kurt frowned, scraping his chair back and away from the table, and moving towards the cupboard, “Well, I guess there’s no point to holding onto it then. Maybe it’ll send a big enough message to get me a little breathing room if I just ruin you.” 

“Kurt, no-” Sam leapt to his feet, and Kurt quickly shifted back, his phone in his pocket, and back flat to the wall. But it wasn’t an attack, Sam stopped several feet away, falling to his knees. “Please, I will do anything. I’ll... What do you want? You’re gay right? I’ll... I’ll do anything.” He paused and swallowed heavily, looking up at Kurt, with an intensity that made Kurt's heart skip a beat. "I'll do anything." 

Kurt froze, as images of what that implied flashed into Kurt's mind. He instinctively stepped away, feeling a little sick that he'd been so quick to imagine it. “You’d want to be careful, Evans. To any of your friends, that’d sound an awful lot like you’re propositioning me. And you know better than anyone what they do to gay people.” 

“Just tell me what you want, and if I can do it, I will.” Sam’s voice was steady, resolute but there was an uncomfortable edge of desperation to it. It felt as though Sam's whole world would fall apart at any moment, and Kurt felt that small ember of empathy that he usually reserved for his dad flair a little.

He rolled his eyes. “Sit down.” He gestured to the table, and pulled out two mugs, “Tea or Coffee?” 

“You don’t have to-” 

“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer,” Kurt snapped, looking over his shoulder. Sam was struggling to his feet, his eyes locked on the ground. “You’re having one, now pick.” 

“Coffee, please,” Sam’s voice was soft, and Kurt turned back to the kitchen counter, preparing the drinks without really thinking through the steps, his focus more on calming himself down. He brought the drinks back to the table and put the milk and sugars in the centre. 

“Okay. If I’m going to blackmail you, I suppose I have a duty to understand what I’m blackmailing you with.” Kurt slipped into his seat, “Why is it so important you don’t lose your job. You’re a healthy young thug, I’m sure you could survive until your next allowance.” 

Sam slowly wrapped his hands around the drink, and licked his lips nervously, “I... My dad lost his job. And whilst we were trying to find a new job, the bank kicked us out of the house. There’s me, and my mom and dad, and my little brother and sister all living in a motel. If I lose my job, we might not be able to afford that either.” 

Kurt narrowed his eyes, and sipped at his own coffee, looking for any signs of deceit. It didn’t feel like he was lying, but could Kurt really trust his judgement? Last year, he’d almost had a crush on Hudson, of all people. “If that’s true, I’m sorry for your family. But I have to say that my charitable side took a hit when my dad had a heart attack and I had to deal with it on my own, with no support. In fact, the opposite of support. I remember one of your friends telling me that maybe he just couldn’t cope with having a faggot for a son anymore.” 

Sam flinched, and he immediately looked over to Kurt. The pity in his eyes made Kurt furious, when it was so lacking during that event. “That’s-” 

“So! Here is the compromise I’m coming to in my head. I’m going to blackmail you, and you’re going to work extra hard to keep me happy.” 

“That doesn’t feel particularly like a compromise,” Sam muttered, his eyes dropping back to his cup. He took a brief sip, as if to steel himself and then asked, “What do you want from me?” 

“Well, obviously not money.” Kurt muttered, sipping again, “and you can’t control your friends, clearly. And I’m not going to sexually assault you, and it’s hurtful that you’d think that I’d coerce you into sex. Let’s start with something simple. When your friends get it into their heads to lock me in the dumpster, or my locker, or the janitor’s closet, you will find a way to get me out as quickly as possible. It is frankly terrifying to be locked in an enclosed dark space like that, which I understand is half the point, but it ends now.” 

“Okay. I can do that.” Sam nodded sharply, “Anything else?” 

“Is there anything else you could do?” Kurt laughed without humour, “You’re not going to stop them throwing slushies at me, you won’t stop them flushing my homework and books, you’re not going to do anything to actively stand up for me in the moment, because we both know that they’d turn on you in a second.” 

Sam sighed, and drank his coffee. Kurt glanced at his phone again, as it lit up with a message from his dad saying that they were going to tow the car to the garage, so he would be home in two hours. Kurt huffed, and put the phone on the table as he looked at the clock. That’d put it at past 9 when he got home. 

“Your dad goes out a lot at night?” 

Sam’s question seemed entirely casual, but it made Kurt’s back go ramrod straight in a second. “The entire house has a security system, and unless you plan on killing me, I will tell everyone everything when I wake up.” He snapped, his hand reaching for the phone.

“Whoa, no, I wasn’t-” Sam held up his hands in surrender, “It wasn’t a threat. I’m just... talking.” 

“Sure. Talking.” Kurt scoffed and collected up the milk and sugar and his own cup, washing them mechanically. “My dad has to pick up as many shifts as he can. The medical bills wiped us out.” 

“I... get that,” Sam muttered, but Kurt didn’t look back, “My family are picking up any shift that comes up, and it’s difficult. Stevie and Stacy are only young, so we can’t leave them in the motel room alone-” 

“I don’t need your sob story.” Kurt slammed the cup a little too hard into the drying rack, and spun to face the other teen, “You never cared about mine, did you? So why should I care about how your life is falling apart. Welcome to the end of the road, Evans. I can see you heading my way, but at least you can escape to school and live your teenage boy fantasies. I go to that living hell, every day, and you all torture me. Then I come home to an empty house, where I sit on my own and wait for my Dad to get home, worrying I’m going to get another phone call that he had another heart attack from overworking himself. Then I go to sleep, and watch it all repeat the next day. You get to pretend to be normal at school, and pretend that you have friends. But I’m guessing you haven’t told them that you’re homeless, because they wouldn’t help, would they?” 

Sam didn’t answer, and Kurt shook his head before turning back to the sink. 

“You don’t have to buy me food. I’m getting used to not having the things I need in life. But you should leave before my dad gets home and gets his hopes up that somebody other than him wants me to stay alive.” 

He heard Sam stand up, and there was a rustling noise for a few seconds, before Kurt listened to him leave the room and out the front door. Kurt turned off the water, and followed after to lock the door. He picked up the side dishes he had ordered and carefully put them on plates, putting some in the fridge for his dad. He grabbed Sam’s cup to clean it, and found a piece of paper underneath with a phone number on it, that he slipped into his pocket and then sat back down on the couch to pick at his food for a moment. 

His stomach felt like it was twisted in knots, but there was still that strange, small sense of satisfaction at having taken one of his tormentors and dragged him down to Kurt’s level, here in the dirt. But, there was another voice too, that he imagined sounded like his mother, that felt bad for Sam’s family. Maybe not Sam himself, but...Stevie and Stacy? It must be confusing and terrifying for them too. 

A brief mention of a stain on the TV shook Kurt out of his thoughts, and he sighed as he put his food aside. He should clean up before his dad got home. 

* * *

His dad didn’t talk much when he got home, but accepted the food thankfully and then passed out in his chair around 11. Kurt fell into the usual routine, gently operating the levers to recline the chair, and throwing the blanket over his dad. Burt barely stirred, and Kurt gently tucked him in before setting about his other tasks. 

It wasn’t until he was putting the plates in the sink to wash in the morning, that he noticed the money on top of the fridge. Like a flash of lightning, his mind was swirling around all the conflicted feelings over the situation again. He took the money down because it’d cause too many questions if his dad had seen it, but once he was downstairs, he was left with a frustrating situation. Morally, he needs to get his money to Sam as soon as possible. He knew the horror stories of working in customer service, getting your wages docked. Sam would have had to have paid for the food with his own money, and that wasn’t right. 

More vindictive parts of Kurt mind wanted to say... good. That should be a sharp lesson not to... A lesson that Sam should... not get blackmailed, because he was a shitty person. 

Kurt sighed, and pulled the number out of his pocket, taking his phone and typing it in slowly. He saved it under BM for Blackmail, and then tried to decide how to do this. It was too late to call, but sending a text left a much more specific paper trail. 

But, Kurt had a sudden flash of two small children being woken up by Sam’s phone ringing and a hushed conversation. So, he fell back onto his bed and tapped out a quick message. 

_ K: You forgot money. How am I supposed to get it to you.  _

That was vague enough that nobody could tell who he was, he decided, and sent it off into the ether. It took a few minutes to get a response and Kurt found it very underwhelming. 

**_BM: Thought you wanted me to pay. Because of carpet and stuff._ **

Kurt rolled his eyes. 

_ K: I thought I had made it pretty clear I wasn’t going to do that.  _

Again the reply took a long time to come through. 

**_BM: I don’t know how you’ll feel safe doing it. I can give you my locker number and combimation, and you can put it in there during a class or something?_ **

Kurt frowned, at the spelling mistake first, but then at the way that Sam’s offer threw his entire expectation off kilter. 

_ K: I can do that. But if this is some kind of trap, I have this text saying you want me to do it.  _

**_BM: No trap, honest. I’d say just give me it, but not a good idea. Football team has an early practice tommorrow._ **

_ K: I’m not going to feel bad about waking you up.  _

**_BM: I was awake anyway. Just leting you know where well be._ **

That was... close to a nice thing, Kurt guessed. If he left a little earlier, he could be inside the building before they got out of practice, and he’d have a better chance of avoiding a dumpster toss. Sam’s replies took a while, and were full of frustrating spelling mistakes, but... 

No. Kurt wasn’t going to think about one of the people who made his life a living hell as being any positive thing. Sam was doing this to get in Kurt’s good graces, so that he didn’t get blackmailed and lose his job. Anything else, was Kurt trying to project some goodness onto his abusers, like he had with Hudson. 

_ K: Well I’m not in charge of your sleep schedule, or where you’ll be. I’ll get the money to you, and think about the rest of it.  _

There wasn’t a reply. 

Kurt went to sleep angry. 

* * *

It felt like he was a spy in one of those James Bond movies that his dad insisted they watch together. He knew where Hudson and the others were, and he had managed to arrive before anyone who wasn't in a team sport, but it felt like he was taking his life in his hands as he slowly made his way through the halls. He tried to appear as casual as possible, but he found himself hunching over a little as he moved, and the all black outfit he had settled on this morning certainly felt like it fit the act.

When he reached the correct locker, he carefully extracted his phone and checked the code that Evans had sent him. His fingers shook as he entered the combination, and carefully opened the locker door. Inside was very simple, not a lot of decoration beyond some McKinley High accoutrement like the little flags they handed out to wave at football games, a small mirror set inside and a couple of pictures of his family. There was a shirt screwed up in the bottom, which Kurt carefully lifted with a pencil, his nose wrinkling as he tried to imagine how long it might have been there. He slipped the small envelope out of his bag to put underneath. 

He took a half step back, when someone appeared next to the locker with a loud slam, making Kurt almost leap out of his skin. 

_ Oh... shit.  _

It wasn't Hudson, or Puckerman or Abrams luckily. But it was the next worse thing. Perhaps the worst thing if he untangled the three other football players into single entities. David Karofsky was terrifying in his own right. He was always watching, and there was such a deep hatred in his eyes every time Kurt caught him staring. 

Like right now, as he stared at Kurt with an inscrutable, furious look on his face. "What're you doing?" 

"I- I..." Kurt immediately closed the locker and stepped back. He needed a believable lie, but his mind was just filled with a dull buzz of terror. Karofsky took a step towards him, cracking his knuckles threateningly, and he blurted out the only thing he could think of. "Mrs. Tanaka asked me to drop off a letter for Sam." 

"Really." Karofsky took another step forward, into Kurt's personal space. "Why don't you open it up, and show me this letter, Fa-" Another strange look crossed Karofsky's face and he sneered, "Loser." 

"You scared me, I've locked the combination inside." Kurt said, hating how high his voice had gotten. Karofsky glared and pulled out his phone, tapping something into it. Kurt tried to step away again, but Karofsky's hand lashed out like a snake and slammed him against the locker, holding him there with equal parts physical strength and terror. "Shouldn't you be at football practice?" Kurt tried to sound confident, but his voice shook. 

"They're watching old plays. I had to go give something to Mrs. Tanaka," Dave muttered as he watched his phone for a couple more moments. "Fair warning, if Sam doesn't know anything about this, I'm delivering you to the dumpster personally and telling everyone you were sneaking around his locker. Trying to do something gross in there?" 

"No!" Kurt snapped, his chest getting tight, "I had to deliver something-" 

Karofsky's phone chimed and Kurt's eyes immediately jumped to it as Karofsky read for a few seconds, a look of confusion flickering across his face. He glanced back to Kurt, and pushed him tighter against the wall. "Do you have his phone, freak?" 

"What?" Kurt held up his hands, "No!"

Karofsky leaned in and pat Kurt's pocket briefly, taking out Kurt's own phone and bringing up the lock screen as if to ensure it wasn't secretly Sam's phone. Seemingly satisfied, he shoved it back into his pocket and stepping back. "Fine. You're free to go. But don't be doing any freak stuff where people can catch you." 

Kurt didn't question his good luck, instead just scrambling off down the hall as fast as his legs could take him. 

* * *

The next evening, Sam sent a text mentioning that he had got the money, and that he had dealt with Karofsky, and ended by saying he was taking Hudson and Puckerman to get coffee before school the next morning, so Kurt managed to avoid two days of dumpster tosses.

So, the third day was a sharp return to reality. 

There was no insult to injury in terms of sour milk or slushy, but he watched as Hudson smirked and dropped the top of the dumpster and he heard the lock click. The world outside was reduced to dulled noises, and the stench inside overpowered anything else. He quickly pulled out his phone, and checked the time carefully, just so he could keep track of what time it had happened, and so he wouldn’t feel insane about the passage of time. 

He didn’t have anyone he could call. There was a grand total of one none-family member number saved in his phone, which belonged to the guy who just watched this happen, and then a bunch of business numbers. Maybe he could order a takeaway to the school, and under special requests write ‘I’ve been locked in the dumpster. Please unlock it and leave me to my shame. Also, make sure that the sauce isn't put on the burger.’ 

Outside grew quieter, and Kurt checked his phone again, realising that everyone would be in the classroom by now. It was going to be another thrilling adventure when a janitor or a chef came to throw rubbish into the bin and he had to burst up and announce his presence. 

The first thump on the side of the dumpster nearly made him scream. It came from nowhere, and was quickly followed by another from a different spot. The whole structure shook lightly, and Kurt let out a sharp shout of panic as the trash shifted underneath him.

Oh god, what if this was some... last minute garbage day? And they were going to throw him in the back of one of those garbage trucks that crushed stuff. He could die in here, and nobody would know until the truck got to the garbage place. Would they even be able to recognise him enough to tell his dad? Or would it be put down to just one of those troubled gay kids who vanished off into the big city. If he died, and his dad spent the rest of his life looking for Kurt? That’d be the worst thing. 

He barely noticed as the top unlocked and opened, too busy trying to find something inside to cling to, and trying to find his breath. Somebody leaned over, “Come on, let’s get you out.” 

Kurt blinked frantically, suddenly aware that the darkness had been hiding how blurry his vision had quickly become. A pair of strong hands were helping him out of the dumpster, and Kurt let them manoeuvre him safely to the ground. Instinctively he reached up to wipe his face, and the vague figure moved to stop him. 

“You... don’t want to do that. Here, let me-” and there was a sleeve carefully wiping his face in soft gentle moves. Kurt closed his eyes, and tried not to feel as humiliated as he was. He also tried to clamp down on a sudden rush of... something that felt like affection, maybe? 

When the sleeve was pulled away, Kurt took a deep breath to centre himself before he turned to look at Sam, “I suppose, a thank you is in order.” 

“I don’t deserve a thank you,” Sam muttered, kicking the ground lightly, wiping his sleeve on his jeans, “This is literally the bare minimum.” 

“Well... I assumed I’d have to wait until you had a free period. I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be in a lesson right now.” Kurt shrugged, his mouth running away with him, “and just for my own vanity, I don’t usually end up crying in the dumpster, okay? I thought that a garbage truck had come and I was going to die.” 

“Shit.” Sam said softly, glancing over his shoulder as though the garbage truck was going to sneak up on him. “Has that ever happened?” 

“Have I ever been crushed to death in a garbage truck?” Kurt scoffed, shaking his head, “You’re lucky you’re-” He caught himself from saying something ridiculous before he humiliated himself further, “-Athletic.” 

Sam’s eyes snapped up and he looked intensely at Kurt for a moment before he gestured back towards the school. “I’ve got to get back to class before someone thinks I’m doing something sketchy in the bathroom.” 

“I’m not your keeper,” Kurt flicked his bag over his shoulder, trying to return to some semblance of normality. Sam waited for a few more minutes, waiting until Kurt gestured for him to go. 

He managed to slip into his second period without a major deal, having practically doused himself in body spray. Puckerman and Sam were sat at the back of the class, and he could see the way that Puckerman talked about it in Sam’s ear gesturing toward Kurt, and Sam grinned back, but when Puckerman looked away, Sam’s smile instantly faded. 

Kurt didn’t read into it. He couldn’t let himself. 

* * *

“Miss Edwards, I have told you this many times before, and yet I must say again that you have been robbed.” Kurt muttered, toasting the Rupaul rerun with his diet coke, and sighed, resting his head against his headboard. His dad had been called out on another run, and so Kurt was all alone in his house, alarm carefully set. 

His homework was safely emailed to himself, his reading all done. His outfit for tomorrow prepared, and any tears or rips from the previous week had been repaired. Now it was his very lonely, very solitary free time. 

Which was why he was surprised when his phone lit up. He glanced down to see a text, but not from his dad like he expected, but instead from Sam. He considered ignoring it briefly, probably another message to tell him that they weren’t going to be around tomorrow to throw him in the garbage. But sheer boredom had him opening it anyway. 

**_BM: I’m outide. Pls can I com in._ **

Kurt narrowed his eyes, and considered it for a moment, before he sighed and got out of bed. He flicked on the porch light, and disarmed the alarm, checking that the baseball bat was within hands reach before unlocking the door. 

His first thought was that Sam looked wrecked. He’d clearly been crying and his shirt sleeve was torn, and that flicker of empathy blazed to life again. “What happened?” Kurt asked carefully, glancing around in case anyone would come running out of the darkness towards him.

“I... uh...” Sam looked down at his arm and tried to pull the fabric back into place, but the piece of cloth hung limply, held only by the stitching in his armpit, “I don’t know what I’m... I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“So you came to the house of the person blackmailing you?” Kurt scoffed, but stepped aside, “Come in before someone recognises you and we both get beaten up.” 

Sam stepped inside slowly, not out of fear or pain, but probably what was causing the tears instead. Kurt closed and locked the door behind him, not bothering to set the alarm in case this was just a brief visit. He turned expectantly back to Sam, but the other boy seemed almost completely lost to the world around him, just picking at something on the back of the sofa with a single minded absence, his nails clearly damaged from biting.

“Look, come downstairs. That’s clearly a work shirt, and I doubt you can afford to buy a new one,” Kurt said, and then winced at the sharpness of the words after he said them. Sam didn’t seem to react to it though, just following Kurt into his basement bedroom at a sedate pace. Kurt gestured to his desk chair, and moved to his sewing kit. “So... You’re clearly upset. What happened?” 

“I...” Sam took a deep breath and moved to sit in the chair, “I went to deliver a bunch of pizza to a house party, and the guy paid, but when I got back to the car, I found out it was a fake bill. I went to confront him, but a couple of other guys got physical with me, and when I went back to the shop, they told me that it was going to have to come out of my pay. And rent on the room is tomorrow, there’s no way of me making the money back in time. We don’t have anything saved up.” 

“Okay.” Kurt closed his eyes, and took a breath. That did feel like a terrible situation, and Kurt was sure that he'd have been crying too. Losing your last refuge would be... awful. “Okay, one thing at a time. Shirt.” He held out his hand to accept it, getting out the thread he thought was most likely to blend into the shirts red color scheme. 

It took him a moment to realise that Sam wasn't moving, and when Kurt turned to look at him, he was staring at Kurt’s outstretched hand, “What do you mean?” He said after a moment, his voice small and lost.

“I could try and sew it whilst you wear it, but then you might end up with blood on it instead.” Kurt rolled his eyes, “I think I’ve proved that of the two of us, I’m the one thinking least about having sex with the other. You’ll be perfectly safe.” 

The other teen swallowed heavily, and then in one very smooth gesture; he slipped the shirt off. Kurt instinctively looked away, trying not to think of the flash of smooth skin and strong muscles he had seen, instead taking the shirt and turning his back on Sam altogether to match the thread. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any clothes that would fit you, but there is a blanket on top of the wardrobe that you could wrap around yourself.” He said, trying to keep his voice level as he started sewing. 

“Thanks,” Sam mumbled, and Kurt heard him shifting around in the background for a few moments. “You don’t have to do this.” 

“I know. That’s what makes me so nice.” Kurt said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“I’d have pegged you more for an Elphaba.” 

That brought Kurt up short, and he glanced over his shoulder at the huddled jock who was now sat with the blanket wrapped around him like a caccoon. “You know Wicked?” He asked curiously, his hands moving on autopilot as he continued to sew the shirt.

“Stacy was really into the Wizard of Oz, and when she found out there was a musical... I’ve heard it.” Sam said, a tiny smile tugging at his lips for a moment, before it died. “I can’t believe I let them down like this.” 

“You haven’t let your family down. People are just shitty to people in the service industry. Maybe you should get one of those pens that show you if a bill is fake.” Kurt muttered, his fingers working deftly to fix the damage. “Do you have anything you can pawn?” 

“No... we didn’t get much from the house, and then... we sold most of the non-essentials to replace the essentials we didn’t have.” Sam’s voice was soft, and Kurt sped up his work. Every time he heard more about this story, he felt worse for Sam. He couldn’t feel bad for this guy. That was how he’d end up getting hurt again. A minute later, he carefully tied off the thread and handed the shirt back. 

“Okay. One problem down.” 

“I’m sorry I came here and bothered you.” Sam mumbled, holding the shirt in his hands, “It’s... really cool of you to help me out, despite... everything.” 

“Despite the bullying?” Kurt scoffed, trying to distance himself from the emotions of the situation. The hurt that flashed across Sam's face hurt Kurt too though. “Yeah, it is. So, there’s no chance your parents have any kind of money saved?” 

Sam shook his head sharply, his eyes filling up again. 

“And how much off are you?” 

“Around $30.” Sam sighed, putting his face in his hands, “I don’t know what else to do.” 

Kurt didn’t want to help. No-one had ever helped him when he was in need, beyond his dad. But he couldn’t have two little kids living in a car either. They hadn’t done anything wrong, to the best of Kurt’s knowledge, except be Sam’s family. If he chose not to help, he knew that reflected more on him as a person than Sam.

Sam's only movement was some light shoulder shakes that suggested he was crying again, so Kurt stepped quietly over to his desk and picked up Yorrik, the silver skull, twisting the cap on the bottom and pulling out a few bills, before putting him back. 

“Here. $30.” He said after a moment, holding the money out awkwardly. Sam turned to look in confusion, and then his eyes widened as he slowly stood, the blanket slipping from his shoulders and his work shirt in one hand, moving towards Kurt, his mouth working soundlessly, “Don’t argue about it. You’re an asshole, but your family have done nothing wrong to me.” Kurt added, shaking the money a little more sharply. 

Sam, to his credit or detriment, didn’t argue and took the money slowly. “I don’t know how to-” 

“I mean, I expect you to literally repay me. But I’m not expecting it any time soon.” Kurt muttered, folding his hands in front of him. “And it’s a one-time thing.” 

“Kurt... You...” Sam blinked at the money in his hands, and then in a surge of movement, he was in Kurt’s personal space. Kurt was vaguely aware of the shirt falling on his feet, and more obviously Sam’s hand on his hip. 

Or even more obviously, Sam’s lips on his. 

Kurt immediately tensed, but Sam was clearly very good at this, and in a moment, Kurt felt himself relax into the pressure, his hands resting awkwardly on Sam’s chest, feeling planes of perfect skin beneath his fingers. 

When Sam pulled back for a moment to catch his breath, reality hit Kurt like a freight train, and when Sam moved forward again he pulled his head back as far as he could, and pushed against Sam’s chest, forcing him to stop. 

“No. Stop.” 

Sam immediately removed his hand from Kurt’s waist and took a step back, “I’m sorry, I just... I wanted to... you gave me the money and-” 

“Please, stop talking for a moment.” Kurt held up a hand, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He could feel the way his body had reacted to the kiss, and that part of him wanted nothing more than him to go back to kissing, but there was another part of him that was completely disgusted at himself for doing so. He focused on that feeling, and opened his eyes slowly. “Do you think I want you to have sex with me for $30? Because I feel like I’ve been very clear on that.” 

“I mean, that wasn’t exactly sex-” Sam said, and the nervous smile that tugged at his lips infuriated. 

“Oh, so you're just going to fall back on being pedantic, whilst I’m stood here freaking out that you just stole my first kiss from me,” Kurt said, wincing at the breathlessness of his own voice, “No. Sam, I don’t expect you to have sex, or make out with me, for money. I made it clear when I started... blackmailing you, that that wasn’t what I wanted.” 

Sam frowned and shrugged, taking another step back, “Okay. If you don't want to-” 

“I don't, okay?” Kurt frowned, taking a step back of his own. Now that there was a little more space, it felt a little steadier between them. 

“Yeah, I just thought you'd be into it,” Sam muttered, his face obscured as he pulled his work shirt back on. Kurt flinched and turned away, straightening his desk just for something to do whilst he pulled himself together. Sam continued after a moment, “You've been a really good guy about all my stuff, and-" 

“Evans, I am blackmailing you,” Kurt snapped, “I’m not a good person, I'm just-" 

“- someone trying to survive.” 

Kurt turned back to look at Sam, who was carefully folding the blanket and putting it back where he found it. “Maybe I should be more vindictive. I've been hurt for a very long time, and now I have someone that I can hurt.” 

“I don’t think you will. But if you did, I'd try to understand.” Sam shrugged, turning back towards Kurt. “I should go home and give my parents this money. You're basically saving our lives, thank you.” 

“I didn’t do it for you,” Kurt snapped, “I did it for your brother and sister.” 

“But you still did it.” Sam seemed to ignore the rage and offered a small smile, “More than any of my other friends would do.” 

“Then maybe the issue is your friends, Sam.” 

“Maybe it is.” 

They slipped into silence for a moment, and then Kurt sighed, “You should get out of here, before my dad gets back.” 

Sam nodded, and Kurt led him back to the door. They didn't really trade goodbyes, but as Sam got into his truck, Kurt swore that the other boy paused to look back at him for a moment longer than was necessary, before the engine started.

* * *

There’s a moment as Puckerman's hands grab Kurt's shoulders the next morning, and Kurt’s hands flail and land on Puck's chest, that he's not standing outside the school next to the garbage. Instead, he’s back in his basement, with a guy who smells a little like Pizza but a lot more like something uniquely masculine. It passes in a flash, and he drops his hands to his side. 

“Princess is trying to cop a feel,” Puckerman crowed over his shoulder and Abrams laughed but Hudson looked vaguely Ill instead. “Come on, let’s get him in there.” 

“You're gonna let him out after right?” 

The moment froze, and Kurt watched everyone turn to look at Evans, who was tapping at his phone absently. Puckerman let go of his shoulders, but used one hand to slam Kurt against the dumpster and hold him in place. “What, you getting a soft spot for the homo?” 

“I'm pretty sure it's garbage day,” Sam said, and when nobody spoke he glanced up from his phone. “You know, when the guys come around in trucks and collect the garbage?” 

“So?” Hudson blinked, looking entirely lost. Kurt remembered a time that his cluelessness was a little adorable, but now... it filled him with frustration that an idiot was given everything in life. 

“The trucks with the big hydraulic presses in the back to crush the rubbish down? I mean, you know I'm okay with playing lookout, but I'm gonna draw the line at accessory to murder, guys.” 

Kurt watched Abrams and Hudson flinch, but even Puckerman's grasp weakened. 

“No, yeah, totally.” Hudson recovered first, looking around as if the police were about to swarm. “Let’s... make a new plan then.” He gestured to everyone to move and then suddenly surged towards Kurt, making Kurt fall back hard against the dumpster. “This isn’t over, Fag.” 

Kurt didn’t respond, just watched the four of them vanish into the school, jovially shoving and pushing at each other as they completely forgot about him, and went about their day. It wasn’t until halfway through Kurt’s first period that he got a text. 

**_BM: Hope that helps._ **

Kurt swallowed heavily, resisting the urge to look back at Sam where he was lurking next to Abrams. 

_ K: Thank you. Just hope the replacement isn’t worse.  _

Behind him, he heard some shuffling and then Abrams stage-whispering, “What’s that Evans, you got a girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, your mom.” Sam hissed back, and a few people snickered until the lesson was called back to attention. 

Later that day, Puckerman and Hudson shoved him into a janitor’s closet and locked the door after him. It wasn’t Sam who found him this time, but instead a disgruntled Janitor. Kurt couldn't argue that this wasn't less disgusting than the dumpster. 

It was a small improvement, but it left a strange warmth in Kurt's chest to have Sam in his corner. 

* * *

**_BM: Got your money. Can I come over and give you it._ **

Kurt glanced at the message, and then back to the bootleg musical he was watching, thinking about the offer. His dad was out again, and he’d watched this movie a few dozen times. He could pause it for ten minutes. 

_ K: Sure.  _

The past week had been.... still terrible, but less gross since they stopped tossing him in the dumpster at every opportunity. The hip checks and locker shoves had continued, of course, and the janitor closet was now where he spent a while every day. He would say he couldn’t hope for miracles, but a month ago, he would have thought that not getting tossed into the garbage would be a miracle. 

With a little more forewarning, Kurt took the time to ensure his outfit was fine. Previously, Sam had caught him in pyjamas or more casual clothing, but Kurt wanted to put in a little more effort if this was more of a... planned meeting. He slipped into some of his black skinny jeans, and slipped a silky red button up shirt on his top half. He took a moment to set his hair properly, and straighten the front room and his bedroom, whilst he waited for the door. 

Of course, when the knock came, he made sure not to rush to it. He didn’t want to look too eager to see someone, especially one of his tormentors. So, he casually made his way around the couch, and unlocked and opened the door. 

Sam's smile was warm and felt easy, and Kurt’s heart caught for a moment in his chest. Without the letterman jacket, or the red work shirt, It was easy to forget for a moment who he was looking at. Just a guy in a cute shirt with a bullseye in the centre, and some casual loose jeans. He didn’t look for more than a second, his eyes zeroing in on Sam’s face. 

Sam didn’t seem to have the same compunction, his eyes slowly shifting over Kurt’s body before returning to his face with a grin. “You dress like this when you’re home alone?” 

“Some of us like to look good,” Kurt rolled his eyes, taking a half step back, “Even if it’s just for ourselves. If you plan on laughing at me, you can just leave.” 

“You do,” Sam nodded sharply, his grin fading for half a moment at the suggestion that he leave, “Look good, that is. I... uh...” 

“Come in, Evans.” Kurt gestured, and let the blonde boy inside before closing the door. “My dad is out again, as you’ve probably guessed.” 

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, looking around casually, “You’ve got a nice home.” 

“We make do,” Kurt hummed, and then paused, “Are you staying long?” 

“I don’t have a shift tonight, and my mom is home with Stevie and Stacy. She said I should come out and have fun.” Sam shrugged, shifting his weight back and forth on his heels. 

“And blackmail is more fun than your marauding horde?” Kurt resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “You can just say-” 

“Yes,” Sam cut him off, “It is. I mean, not the blackmail, because that’s still terrifying even if I don’t think you’ll ever use it. But... I don’t really enjoy spending time with those guys.” 

“Why not?” Kurt asked curiously, walking around the room to settle in his dad’s couch. He gestured to the couch for Sam, and the boy carefully sat down. “Surely you have a lot of things in common. Girls, Sports, fart jokes.” 

“I don’t really know. It’s all very... surface stuff.” Sam shrugged, resting his hands on his knees and casually flexing his fingers one at a time. Kurt found himself mildly entranced by the gesture as the finger lifts mirrored each other on each hand, “I mean, I definitely don’t like the way they talk about girls. And I’m not big into fart jokes either. So it’s a lot of sports talk, and video games and gossip.” 

“Well, not everyone can be a brilliant conversationalist,” Kurt shrugged, tearing his eyes away from Sam’s fingers for a moment, “What are you doing?” 

“Oh... uh...” Sam blushed and closed his hands into fists, “Honestly?” Kurt gave him a sharp nod, and he shrugged, “Where I lived before, I went to a support group for my Dyslexia. There was a guy there with dyspraxia, and this was one of the exercises he did. It kinda calms me down a bit.” 

“Oh.” Kurt blinked, and tilted his head, “Cool?” 

Sam shrugged softly, and then slapped his head, “Right! Money.” 

“I told you that you didn’t need to rush to pay me back,” Kurt said carefully, “I don’t want you to put yourself in the situation again where you need to find more money for next week.” 

“My parents are very proud people,” Sam said, giving Kurt a small smile and reaching into his jeans pocket to pull out a small envelope, “My sister drew a picture too to say thank you.” 

Kurt took the envelope slowly, “You told your family?” 

“Yeah... I mean, they’d have found out about the whole pay thing when I got home anyway. I... got pretty upset a few times on the ride home, had to pull over.” Sam shrugged, looking away for a moment, and Kurt could see him blushing lightly. “So, I took my dad aside when I got home and told him the whole thing. He said you sound like a ‘kind and generous young man’. Mom said that your patch job on my shirt was excellent. Better than she could do.” 

Kurt could feel the heat rising on his cheeks, and he carefully turned away to slip the envelope into his pocket. “Well, it’s something I can do at home on my own. And a lot of my clothes get damaged, and I don’t have a lot of money to replace things. And... and if you mock me about this, I will find some way of getting back at you, but I enjoy fashion.” 

“Nothing wrong with liking something,” Sam shrugged, and Kurt could see how he started up the finger exercises, “My mom and dad said that if you ever want to come hang out at the motel with me, you should feel free.” 

“I think that’d bring up too many questions about why we’re friends,” Kurt muttered, and then paused. “Not that I’m saying we’re friends.” 

“I mean, if you don’t want to be-” Sam frowned, shifting in his seat. 

“A friendship built on blackmail is not one with a positive future, Evans,” he stood up sharply and walked away from the chair, “And friendships are fleeting. I’d rather keep definitive proof that you won’t ruin my life rather than go off a vague social contract.” 

“I’ve said that I don’t think you’ll ever use that blackmail,” Sam didn’t stand up, but his eyes tracked Kurt around the room, “because you’re a good person.” 

“I can’t be that much of a good person, Sam. I’m threatening you to keep you under my thumb.” Kurt snapped, stepping into the kitchen and starting to make drinks, just to give his hands something to do. 

“Because the people at that school have made you desperate and you feel alone.” Sam said, and Kurt heard him move into the doorway. “I wish I could be a better friend. Be there for you at school.” 

“Oh, please,” Kurt scoffed, “there’s not any use to you being bullied as well. And if they know we’re frie- we're spending time together, Hudson is going to make it worse for me based on the whole `making you gay` thing.” 

“You can’t make someone gay,” Sam muttered, and Kurt let out a sharp bark of laughter. “What?” 

“Oh, you just jumped a solid step or two above almost everyone else at that school.” Kurt muttered, finishing the coffee and handing one to Sam, remembering the milk and sugar he’d added the last time. “At least about the gay thing.” 

“Sounds like there’s a pretty low bar.” Sam grinned at the drink, “You remembered how I like my coffee?” 

“Don’t get full of yourself, I’m just a conscientious host.” Kurt rolled his eyes, and grabbed his own drink, moving back into the living room. “Unfortunately, I don’t have many video games to offer for entertainment.” 

“I’m good just to talk. Get to know each other.” Sam shrugged, following Kurt as they both settled into seats, “So... it’s just you and your dad?” 

“My mom died when I was eight years old, so it’s just been the two of us since then.” Kurt sipped his drink slowly. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sam said softly. 

“It’s fine. We do our best to look out for each other. It’s just a little rough these days.” 

“It doesn’t mean it’ll always be difficult,” Sam said, his voice hopeful, “You’ve seen all the ‘It Gets Better’ videos right?” 

"It’s easier for people like you to believe that,” Kurt muttered, “I used to, I had dreams of... going to New York. Singing on Broadway... I let those dreams die. People like me don’t get dreams.” 

Sam sighed, and put his drink on the table next to the sofa, pausing at Kurt’s sharp look to put a coaster underneath. “It isn’t easy for me to believe that it’ll get better Kurt. I struggle with it a lot. I tell myself I’m just doing what I have to do to survive, but... I wonder what kind of person that makes me.” 

Kurt frowned, and sipped his drink, “The ‘It Gets Better’ project is to help LGBT youth, Evans. No offence, but it’s not just for struggling kids.” 

“Well, let’s just say the message speaks to me, Hummel.” Sam frowned, “You don’t have a monopoly on it.” 

“On an internet charity project? I never claimed to.” 

“On not being straight.” Sam muttered darkly, and Kurt froze in his seat. “So don’t talk about it being easier for me. I might not get bullied like you do, but I still feel like a part of me is being crushed every time Finn opens his mouth about you.” 

The living room fell quiet after that for a few minutes, except for the sounds of them both drinking and shifting in their seats. “I... didn’t know. I wouldn’t have guessed.” Kurt muttered after a while, putting his now empty cup aside. 

“I’m not out at the school. The only people I’ve told are my mom and dad.” Sam shrugged, putting his own cup aside. 

“But... I know you’ve had girlfriends. Not that I’ve been paying attention, but the gossip mill at that school is relentless.” Kurt said, fidgeting. 

“Yeah?” Sam nodded, “I’ve had girlfriends.” 

“Beards?” Kurt asked, and Sam shook his head, “I don’t understand.” 

“I’m not gay, Kurt. I’m bisexual. Boys and Girls.” 

Kurt opened his mouth to argue and then paused, realising his situation. He’d been surrounded by people for a long time saying that Bisexual people were just gay men lying to themselves, or slutty women, and... he knew that he shouldn’t just repeat what he had heard around Lima. They things they said about him was evidence enough of their regressive opinions. It might be worth researching the topic a little more before he offered judgement, and he definitely shouldn’t do it whilst alone in a house with a guy who could hurt him. “Oh.” 

“I know that makes it ‘easier’ than you have it, in your eyes. I know that I can blend in a lot better. But...” Sam shrugged, “It means a lot of lying. A lot of doing bad things to keep the secret.” 

“Well, I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me, but also... why did you feel comfortable enough to tell me?” 

“I told you, Kurt. I think you’re a good guy, and I don’t think you’ll use any of this to hurt me. Not my sexuality and not the blackmail either.” Sam’s voice was sure and sincere, and Kurt did his best to just accept what Sam had said as his opinion and not argue against it. Sam’s face slowly split into a grin, and he added, “Besides, most straight guys aren’t going to offer to blow you to get out of a blackmail scheme, from what I understand.” 

“Well, I’ll take that under advisement.” Kurt rolled his eyes, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “So, we’re the two LGBT guys at McKinley.” 

“Oh there’s definitely more,” Sam snorted, “Not even from like... a numbers point of view. I know one.” 

“Who?” Kurt said, eyes going wide. “Chang? He’s always seemed a little-” 

“No... I don’t think...” Sam tilted his head in thought for a moment, before he shook his head, “Either way, I’m not telling you right now. That’s their secret.” 

Kurt sighed and relaxed into his seat, “That’s... fair. How do you know though?” 

“I’ve caught him checking me out, like... a lot.” Sam grinned, “I took pity on him and took him aside. He denied it at first, but... I’m a pretty likable guy.” 

“When you’re not terrorising people, sure.” Kurt shrugged, “We’ve had this whole conversation, and I haven’t wanted to throw you out once.” 

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but before they could continue, the front door rattled, and a moment later, Burt Hummel stepped inside, throwing his jacket on the back of the sofa. “Sorry, Kurt, didn’t see you... there...” He paused mid-step, his eyes falling on Kurt in the recliner and then Sam on the couch, both of whom had tensed up the moment he came in. “Uh... Hi there-” 

“Sam. Sam Evans,” Sam jumped to his feet immediately, holding out a hand, “It’s nice to meet you Sir.” 

“Call me Burt, kid. Everyone does.” 

Kurt watched as his father took Sam’s hand and shook it firmly before turning to Kurt with a question in his eyes. “Sam goes to McKinley with me. We share a few classes.” Kurt offered, forcing a smile even if it felt strained, “We’re...” 

“Friends.” Sam finished when Kurt’s pause went on a little too long. “Kurt helped me out of some tough situations. He’s a really good guy.” 

“Yeah, he is.” Burt offered Kurt a warm smile. “Wish he’d told me you were coming over, I’d have left money for a pizza or something.” 

“Oh, I ate before I came,” Sam said, offering Burt a charming smile. “But I should be getting home before it gets too late. My brother and sister’ll kill me if I don’t read them a story before bed.” 

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Sam.” Burt said, and gestured to Kurt, “Aren’t you going to walk him out? I’ll go make myself a drink.” 

“Sure, dad.” Kurt nodded, “But I know it’s just because you want me out of your chair.” 

“I’m not claiming to be the sneaky one in this house,” Burt laughed, and stepped into the kitchen. Kurt quickly moved to the door, and led Sam outside, closing the door behind him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he would be home so early,” Kurt muttered, “I’ll... I’ll work this out.” 

“Work what out?” Sam frowned, “You said you didn’t want him to know about me because you didn’t want him to get his hopes up about you.” 

“Well, sure, but let me be the realist here for a moment, Evans.” Kurt hissed, “My dad talks to one of the guys at the garage about how I made a new friend, called Sam. Someone from school overhears, and tells everyone you’re hanging out with the school fag. Suddenly your reputation is in tatters, and you’re having to answer a lot of difficult questions about your sexuality just to avoid joining me in the dumpster.” 

Sam opened his mouth to argue, and then he sighed, “Fine, if you want to try and convince your dad not to tell people we’re friends, that’s on you. I would like not to be bullied. But, I’m fine with him knowing we’re friends.” 

Kurt rolled his eyes, and then glanced around, “Where’s your car?” 

“I left it with my mom in case she needs it,” Sam shrugged, “I’m going to walk back.” 

“It’s pretty late for you to walk home-” Kurt sighed, rubbing his face. “Stay here a minute.” 

He quickly ducked back inside, nearly bumping into his dad stepping out of the kitchen with a cup and an inquisitive look. “Dad, I know you have a dozen questions-” 

“-probably low balling it a bit there, kid-” 

“-but I just found out that Sam walked here from across town. Can I drive him home, and then be interrogated?” 

Burt frowned, glancing at the door and then nodded slowly, “Alright. But straight there, and straight back, alright?” 

“Quick as I can,” Kurt assured, and stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Burt in a brief hug, before he stepped outside. “Alright, jump in.” 

“Jump in...?” 

“The car, Evans.” Kurt gestured to the Navigator. “It has tinted windows. No-one will see us.” 

“Oh...” Sam considered for a moment, and then shrugged, “Okay. I’ll... give you directions.” 

* * *

“Dad, I’m back,” Kurt called as he let himself back inside the house, locking the door after him. There was the dull roar of some sports game as he hung up his jacket, “Have you eaten?” 

“Have you?” Burt retorted, and Kurt tried not to react too obviously when the TV switched off. “Come sit down, Kurt. I think we need to have a chat.” 

Kurt wanted to find a sarcastic remark, but he was too tense and nervous to find anything appropriate to the situation, so instead he moved to the couch, and sat down carefully. Burt shifted the chair a little to face Kurt properly. 

“So... Sam?” 

“I... offered to tutor him, to make a little pocket money.” Kurt tried to sound confident, but Burt’s eyes narrowed. 

“Try again. You don’t dress like that for tutoring.” 

Kurt glanced down at himself, and then looked back up, “It’s called style, Dad.” 

“Sure, kid,” Burt rolled his eyes, smiling softly. “Does Sam visit often? And you should know, I can go across the road and ask Mrs Robinson.” 

Kurt sighed, folding his arms. Of course that old bat would have been at her window watching, ready to tell Burt if Kurt stepped out of line at all. “He’s been a couple of times.” 

“And you didn’t mention him, because...” Burt prompted, and Kurt tried to find a good answer for that that wouldn’t bring everything crashing down around him. “Kurt, you know I love you, right?” 

“Of course.” Kurt rolled his eyes, shuffling in his seat. “It’s... just complicated.” 

“Your mom always said I should let this happen at your speed, kid. But... you're 17 now, and if you’re going to have boys sneaking in and out when I’m not home, I’m going to have to ask.” Burt reached up as if to fix his hat, and then dropped his hand when he realised he wasn’t wearing it. “You’ve always been a little different, son. And that’s okay, you know I love you no matter what.” 

“You...” Kurt frowned trying to understand the path that this conversation had taken, “You’ve said you love me twice now.” 

“Cause a lot of kids in this situation worry that their parents won’t.” Burt frowned, “I read some books on it. I want you to know if there’s anything you want to tell me, I’ll love you no matter what. I won’t send you off to any camps, or any priests or anything. I won’t tell you not to be... y’know?” 

_ Oh. _

Kurt swallowed hard, as it dawned on him what his dad was asking. “I feel like... it’s clear. I didn’t think I’d have to... say it.” 

“I mean, it might be clear or it might not be,” Burt shrugged, “but maybe it’ll help to say it, Kurt. Make sure we’re both on the same page.” 

“Dad...” Kurt took another breath, putting his hands on his knees and rubbing them briefly to get rid of the sweat that was accumulating there. “Dad, I’m gay.” 

“Okay.” Burt nodded, and smiled warmly. “I love you, kid. I’m glad that you told me, and nothing has to change if you don’t want it to change.” Kurt nodded shakily, and wiped his eyes briefly as his dad settled back into his chair. “So... that Sam kid?” 

“I’m going to need more of that question, because I’m a little-” Kurt made a vague gesture trying to show how frazzled he was. 

“Is he your... boyfriend?” 

“No. Just... a friend.” Kurt assured, “Nothing untoward I swear.” If you didn’t include the blackmail, he meant, but again that wasn’t important to the conversation right now. Or maybe he just didn’t want to share that. 

“Alright. But, some ground rules, if you bring a guy home-” 

“Oh, god no," Kurt felt his face begin to heat up and he tried desperately to his the humiliation behind his hands.

“-be respectful of yourself and of me.” Burt held up a hand, as Kurt tried to melt into the couch and out of sight. “No fooling around anywhere I might walk in on it. Sock on the basement door if you’re...down there. And I want to meet your boyfriends before you start bringing them over when I’m out.” 

“There are zero boyfriends for you to be worried about,” Kurt muttered, his hands muffling his voice, “Zero.” 

“Well if that changes, let me know.” Burt reached for the remote and turned the TV back on. “I’m just glad you’re making some friends. You should invite Sam over for food some time.” 

That was as close as an opening as Kurt was going to get, and if he left it any longer he was going to chicken out of telling his dad. “About Sam...” Kurt swallowed heavily, “We are friends, okay?” 

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” Burt frowned, muting the TV again. 

“I just... Sam is on the football team. He’s pretty popular at school. And... if anyone knew we were friends... it wouldn’t be safe for him anymore.” 

"What do you mean ‘safe’,” Burt turned back towards Kurt, “He’d be in danger?” 

“You know what people say about me, Dad, and I’m just living my life. If the football team found out Sam was spending time alone with the gay kid... it wouldn’t end well for either of us.” Kurt reached across, “I just... for now, it’s safer if nobody knows that me and Sam are friends.” 

“That doesn’t sit right with me, kid.” Burt’s frown deepened, and he reached across to put his hand on Kurt’s knee. “You’re sure this is a guy you want hanging around you? Someone who can't be your friend in public?” 

“I don’t have a lot of options, Dad.” Kurt reached down and put his hand on his dad’s, “I’m really tired of being lonely. And even if he isn’t friendly at school, he still... tries to help where he can. That’s more than anyone has done in a long time.” 

There was a long pause after that, and Kurt could feel his dad's eyes searching his face for something “If you’re sure,” Burt finally sighed, and squeezed Kurt’s knee briefly, “he’s just going to have to work harder to bring himself up in my eyes then. And if I find out he’s hurting you, I know a guy who’ll lend me a shotgun.” 

Kurt rolled his eyes as his dad got comfortable, and turned the sports back on. He stepped away, downstairs to the musical that he’d abandoned, pausing briefly to text Sam. 

_ K: I told my dad. He'll keep it secret, but you're going to have to make a better impression the next time you're here. _

**_BM: I'll win him over. Parents love me. Just glad there'll be a next time._ **

Kurt paused as he looked over the slow reply, something clicking into place.

_ K: You know I'm not going to judge you for any spelling mistakes, right? I'm aware that most people don't write correctly, and they don't even have an explanation. _

Of course it took Sam longer to respond. He probably had to take more time to check the spelling.

**_BM: You're worth putting the effort in for._ **

Kurt stared at the message for a little longer than was perhaps necessary, the musical passing by in a blurry haze before sleep finally overtook him.

* * *

Sam and Burt got along relatively well, Kurt found over the next couple of weeks. The first dinner was a little awkward, and Sam came out of the living room to eat looking relatively ashamed of himself, but beyond that the two talked about sports over food and would touch on other topics. There were only two things that felt off topic. School, and Sam’s current home life. Of course Kurt knew why for both of them, but Sam would talk happily with Burt about everything that happened before coming to Lima. 

After that, Sam showed up a few more times, either on nights off, or when his shift finished early, and the two of them would watch movies on Kurt’s laptop. It almost felt entirely normal. Kurt would never ask, or insist that Sam came over. Sam would just send a text asking if he could. 

There was a voice in the back of Kurt’s mind though that kept reminding him that this could all just be a lie. That Sam could feel trapped into being Kurt’s friend, in exchange for Kurt not releasing the information about his homelife. That as soon as Sam’s life turned around, he would be gone, and what’s worse, he’d know all about Kurt and how best to hurt him. 

That ended when Jacob Ben Israel got involved. 

Kurt hated Jacob’s blog with a burning passion, but it was also an important source of information. Nobody talked to Kurt, just around him, so it was useful for keeping a finger on the pulse of McKinley High. So when a new blind item came through one evening, entitled  _ Which Blonde Football player has been keeping strange bedfellows- _ Kurt was dialling Sam’s number before he had even opened it. It rang for far too long before Sam answered, or maybe it just felt like that as Kurt navigated through frustrating popup ads and the other blind items to find the one he was looking for. 

“Hey, I’m at work. Everything okay?” Sam’s voice sounded a little breathless, and Kurt’s stomach clenched. 

“Do you know who Jacob Ben Israel is?” He asked, almost cutting off Sam. “The kid who thinks of himself as a reporter?” 

“Yeah. Puck hates him.” Sam snorted, and then paused, “I mean-” 

“No, no he’s right. Jacob is the worst. But I think he’s written something about you.” 

Sam goes silent on the other end of the phone, but Kurt can hear him breathing, so he just puts his phone between his shoulder and ear, and gets rid of the last popup to finally reach the article. 

“It says... Which Blonde Football player has been keeping strange bedfellows at a motel?” Kurt let out a soft breath of relief. It wasn’t him. They hadn’t seen him coming to visit Kurt. 

“Kurt? Keep talking, please.” Sam’s voice was sharp and brittle on the other end of the phone, and Kurt immediately regretted his relief. “What does it say?” 

“Uh... Let me...” Kurt scrolled lower, “These two blonde lovebirds have been seen getting very close at the American Family Motel. Does our jock not realise that his partner has a history of bad decisions? Or does that just make it hotter? This humble reporter cannot comment, but safe to say that these two are living in Sinn. And, he’s spelt Sinn with two n’s.” 

“Fuck.” There was a soft thump on the over end. “Everyone’s going to know.” 

“Who did he see you with?” Kurt frowned, standing up, “Maybe you could get them to say-” 

“Quinn would never go with that. She’s trying to put her life back together. And Hudson would still beat the shit out of me.” Sam let out a frustrated noise, “Okay... Okay. I need to... work out how to tell everyone.” 

“Tell everyone what Sam?” Kurt swallowed heavily, swapping the phone to his other hand. 

“About my family’s situation,” Sam muttered, and Kurt could hear the frustration in his voice, “If I admit the truth... I’ll take a knock, but if they have to sneak around and find out, then it’ll be much worse.” 

“Do... Can I do anything?” Kurt asked, his voice soft. 

“Just... I know you have all that blackmail, Kurt... but please don’t hold what I have to do against me for the next couple of days.” Sam said, his voice cold, “I have to... make sure people know not to mess with me.” 

Kurt let out a long breath, the tension building up his spine. “I understand. I guess I’ll pull out some of the clothes I don’t mind being ruined. You’ll just... make it up to me later, right?” He tried to make it sound funny, but Sam didn’t laugh. 

“I’ve got to go. I need to make another delivery, and then I need to call... someone. I’ll text you when I think it’s safe next.” 

“I’ll...” Miss you, wait, be okay? Kurt didn’t know how to end the call, and instead he swallowed heavily. “I’ll keep your secret.” 

“Thanks, Kurt. I’m sorry.” 

The line went dead after, and Kurt fell back onto the bed, tears in his eyes. 

The next day, the day before his birthday, Kurt was dragged out of sight of the front of the building and Hudson, Puckerman, Evans and Abrams painted him shoulder to knee with paintball guns. They all left him huddled on the ground, laughing and high fiving each other. 

Kurt got back in the Navigator and drove home. 

* * *

He spent his birthday alone at home. A few members of the family sent him text messages wishing him a happy birthday, and his dad brought home a small cake for them to share, asking him if he wanted to invite Sam. 

“I don’t know when Sam will be coming again,” Kurt said quietly, deftly cutting the cake into segments. “He’s... dealing with a lot right now.” 

“Oh,” Burt looked at Kurt, brow furrowed for a moment before he looked back up at Kurt. “Well... We’ve never needed anyone before, have we?” 

“Just each other.” Kurt forced a smile, handing his dad a piece of cake. “Now, I think I get to pick the movie tonight, since it’s my birthday?” 

They watch Rent. It gives Kurt a reason to cry that wasn’t just loneliness. 


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt missed two days of school overall, that being the day of the paintball assault and then his birthday. He had skipped his birthday the year before as well, after Hudson and Puckerman made it clear they knew it was coming and that they had big plans for the day. But when he had returned the day after, they threw him in the dumpster and the day had only gone downhill from there.

At least in the present, there were no more dumpster tosses. That had to mean that on some level, this whole experience had to be a positive, right? 

It didn’t feel like a positive. It feels like he was drowning again, but now there was a lifeboat in view, rowing away. And there was a very vindictive part of him that hated Sam for giving him hope for a few weeks. That feeling had led to him putting the recordings he’d made of Sam into two separate emails, and written the entire email to the most devastating effect, because Sam’s fear that nobody would support him is obviously wrong. The entire football team might be assholes, but it was clear that Puckerman is sympathetic to Evan’s plight, and very unsympathetic to anyone who mocks him. Jacob had to buy a new camera, and he has sworn off covering the football team publicly. But he couldn’t bring himself to send those e-mails. To ruin someone else’s life.

So, Sam was fine. Sam got to be happy and popular again. 

And Kurt had to just deal with that, and keep his chin up, and not be as awful as the voice in his head kept telling him to be. 

Saturday was the first day Kurt got to relax. His dad went to work, and Kurt curls up on the sofa and puts on some trashy talk show, and started on some of the bigger pieces of homework he had to have done by Monday. It almost felt normal, but he found himself checking his phone every so often, waiting for a text that he felt was never going to come.

It was around noon, when a polite knock at the door got his attention. Kurt slid off the couch, and made his way as casually as he could to the door, pausing briefly to look through the peephole. The woman on the other side looked strangely familiar, blonde hair and kind eyes that were currently focused on something outside of Kurt's view towards the ground. He carefully unlocked and then opened the door, trying to appear like a normal human being and not some paranoid crazy man. "Hello?"

“Hi!” A voice came from lower, and Kurt glanced down at a pair of blonde children looking up at him with bright eyes. The woman rolled her eyes, but her smile made it clear that she wasn’t actually frustrated at their antics. The little girl held out a hand, standing up onto her tiptoes, “You’re Sam’s Kurt!” 

Realization struck Kurt all at once and he forced a returning smile rather than the suprise he actually felt. "I suppose I am,” He said, taking the hand politely and doing a small curtsie. “And you must be... Stacy Evans.” 

“How’d you know?” She whispered, her eyes going wide. 

“Well, I recognize great Artists.” Kurt said in a stage whisper, “And you must be Stevie?” 

The boy nodded, but didn’t offer his hand. Kurt didn’t push his luck, instead turning his attention to the adult. “Is everything okay, Ma’am?” 

“Everything is fine, and please, call me Mary,” She said with a bright smile, “Sam and Dwight are in the car, but these two little rugrats would not stay in there.” 

“We wanted to meet Sam’s Kurt,” Stacy said brightly, finally letting go of Kurt’s hand, “In case you said no.” 

Mary gave him a look that clearly read ‘Kids, huh?’ and laughed lightly, “Well, we wanted to let you know that we have found a new home. It’s more of an apartment than a house, but it’s certainly better than our current situation.” 

“That’s great,” Kurt smiled sincerely, even if he wasn’t sure why they had appeared at his house to tell him, “I’m really glad for you.” 

“Well, we’re all going out to celebrate, and-” Mary glanced over her shoulder briefly before turning back, “We told Sam he could invite a friend.” 

“Oh.” Kurt’s smile faded a little, “I don’t know if that’s a... great idea.” 

“Think of this as a thank you from the family, and the start of a very long apology from my son,” Mary said, her own smile turning a little sharper, as her eyes flicked back towards the car again, “Obviously, no-one will force you. But we would like to get to know Sam’s actual friends.” 

“I...” Kurt took a breath, making the mistake of glancing down at the two hopeful children, “I’d have to ask my dad, and get changed. Perhaps you can let me know where you’re going, and I’ll let Sam know if I can get permission.” 

“That’s a fantastic idea,” Mary said warmly, and then looked back once more, making a sharp gesture at the car. One of the doors at the back opened, and Sam came lumbering up the path, his shoulders slumped. “Sam’ll wait here until you know. That way he can get started on that apology, in case you can’t come. Isn’t that right, Samuel.” 

“Yes, mom.” Sam muttered, staring at his shoes. Mary coughed, and Sam immediately looked up, offering Kurt a small smile, “Hi Kurt.” 

“Well, I need to wrestle these two back into their seat-belts. We would love to have you with us Kurt. If you’re worried about Sam’s... other ‘friends’ I’ll let you know we’re going to drive up to Columbus. We won’t run into any of them.” 

“I appreciate the forethought,” Kurt said, unable to make eye-contact with Sam, “even if I can’t come, I’ll drop Sam off.” 

“Thank you,” Mary started herding the kids away, and Kurt was soon left alone with Sam on the doorstep. 

“Well...” Kurt sighed, rubbing his face, “You better come in before someone sees. But if you pull out a paintball gun, I’m going to scream. Fair warning.” 

“Kurt, I’m-” Sam started, but Kurt was already turning his back and marching into the house, turning off the talk show on the TV, and moving to the kitchen. “Kurt, I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry, Sam?" Kurt almost laughed, but it felt too close to hysteria to let it out, "You warned me before. Not even when you dropped me this time, you warned me when I first started blackmailing you that you couldn’t actually protect me from the others.” 

“I had to do what I had to do to survive,” Sam muttered, sitting in his usual seat at the table. “I am sorry.” 

“I know. I told you I understood, Sam. It doesn’t mean I have to forgive you.” Kurt muttered, moving to straighten a few things on the counter to continue avoiding Sam's eyes.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I’ll try and... work for that trust back.” 

Kurt scoffed and finally moved to sit in the seat across the table, “You think there’s any kind of trust here?” 

“Yeah. I trust you.” Sam said, looking up with complete sincerity. “I do.” 

“Well, you don’t have to anymore, do you? I’m going to assume if you got an apartment, one of your parents have a full time job again. So, you’ll be able to survive without the Pizza Delivery job. I don’t have any blackmail on you anymore.” 

“Kurt... I don’t trust you because you have blackmail you haven’t used on me.” Sam insisted, reaching his hand across the table, “I trust you because you’re a good person who helped me out when I had no-one, despite the fact that I’ve been nothing but an asshole to you. I trust you because you’re one of the two real friends I’ve made since I came to Lima. And you’re one of two people who know I’m Bi, and even when you could have used that on me without risking ruining my family, you still didn’t.” 

Kurt paused, considering Sam's words carefully. They didn't fix what was really broken here, but... it was a lifeline right now. He sighed before he pulled his phone out and dialed his dad’s number, ignoring Sam's outstretched hand. Sam held it out for a few moments longer before he retreated, slumping into his chair. 

_ “Hey kid, everything okay?”  _ Burt's voice sounded concerned, even over the sound of hard mechanical work in the background.

“Hey dad. The Evans have asked me to go eat dinner with them. Is that okay?” Kurt asked, ignoring the way that Sam straightened up in his chair. 

_ “Do you want to go?” _ Burt asked, his voice soft,  _ “You haven’t talked to Sam recently...”  _

“I’m sure, dad.” Kurt said, “He’s got some stuff to apologize for, but... Well, I’ve got to start giving some of these assholes the benefit of the doubt if I don’t want to end up alone.” 

Burt chuckled,  _ “Language, Kurt. Well, let me know if you need anything from me. Be home before 9, or let me know if it’s going to be later.”  _

“Will do,” Kurt waited for the phone to cut off, and then turned to Sam, “Okay. I’ll come.” 

“Cool, yeah, that’s great.” Sam said, a wide smile splitting his face almost painfully as his shoulders and back straightened, “I’m glad, honestly. And I’m going to make it up to you.” 

“Sam... don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Kurt sighed, “Now... come and help me work out what I wear to meet my friend’s parents.” 

“You could wear that,” Sam gestured to Kurt's jeans and loose shirt, “You always look great.” 

“These are my lazy clothes. I should try and make a good impression.” Kurt muttered, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “I mean, you didn’t comment on me answering the door in pajamas, so you’re clearly not that bothered.” 

“I just assumed they were very shiny clothes,” Sam said with a small sly smile, but then he nodded, “Alright, my parents have a head start, so if you’re changing, we should... do that.” 

“Alright,” Kurt stood up again, “You’re about to enter a very precarious situation, Mr. Evans. I haven’t let anyone help me choose clothes in a decade. This might very well make or break our relationship.” 

* * *

In the end, they settled on a simple gingham button up, and tan pants, with Kurt slipping a grey jacket over the top. Not particularly flamboyant, but it was all well put together, and made him feel like he was putting in a modiucum of effort. There was also very little chance that it would offend anyone either. The two of them slipped into the Navigator, and Kurt bit his tongue when Sam fiddled with the radio until he found a station playing pop music. 

_ You’re just worried that if you snap at him, he’ll leave again, and you’ll be alone again. _ The vindictive voice in his head whispered venomously. Kurt tightened his hands on the wheel, and pushed it away as hard as he could, but there were barbs still in there. He barely noticed the music change, until another voice next to him started singing along with the song. 

_ Ooh whoa, ooh whoa, ooh whoa  _

_ You know you love me, I know you care  _

_ Just shout whenever and I'll be there  _

_ You are my love, you are my heart  _

_ And we will never, ever, ever be apart  _

_ Are we an item? Girl quit playin'  _

_ We're just friends, what are you sayin'  _

_ Said there's another, look right in my eyes  _

_ My first love, broke my heart for the first time  _

Kurt couldn’t help the small incredulous smile, his eyes safely fixed on the road as Sam sang along to the repetition of ‘Baby’ in the chorus, and slowly trailed off. 

“What?” He asked after a moment, and Kurt could hear the nervousness in his voice. 

“I... didn’t know you sang.” Kurt said, sparing a brief glance to Kurt before looking back to the road. “You’re good.” 

“I’m a man of hidden depths, I play guitar too,” Sam paused, and Kurt saw him shift out of the corner of his eye, “At least I did. The guitar was one of the things we sold.” 

“Well... if everything goes well, maybe you can save up for another one.” Kurt offered, and Sam gave him an uncomfortable smile. “Puckerman plays Guitar,” Kurt added after a moment, “He might be able to help you find a cheap one.” 

“How do you know?” 

“In middle school, he brought it in for a show and tell.” Kurt shrugged, “He wanted to be a rockstar like his dad.” 

“He’s... Sometimes I feel like most of those guys have hidden depths,” Sam admitted quietly, “Hudson sings in the showers when no-one is around, and he’s only got his mom. Puckerman... He only has his mom too, and his little sister. He carries around all this hurt, but the only thing he can channel it into is hurting other people. They feed into each other’s worst instincts.” 

“And Abrams?” 

“He’s... the hardest to get a read on. He’s smart, and he’s always watching, but... He’s not damaged, he’s just privileged and mean.” 

“You’re very insightful,” Kurt said, and then shuddered, “Let’s not talk about those guys. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.” 

Sam opened his mouth, and then closed it again quickly, “Looks like we’re here.” 

“Alright,” Kurt pulled into a parking space close to Sam’s parents' car and they both quickly made their way inside the family style italian restaurant. Stacy waved them down frantically, and Sam slipped into the booth first, so that Kurt could have the edge closest to end. Even so, Kurt could feel his arm pressed up against Sam’s side as he tried to get comfortable, and the warmth that seemed to radiate from him. 

They all ate, and chatted about life and the new house, and Mary’s new job working at a secretary at a law firm in town, and Dwight’s part time job at Sheets and Things. Stacie and Stevie were in a heated debate about what color they would paint their bedroom when Mary suggested that she take them to an arcade next door. It wasn’t until they were out of the door that Kurt realized that the general feeling of the table had changed, and Kurt didn’t dare look back to the other two people at the table as he delicately picked at a slice of pizza. He didn’t know what he expected Dwight to say, but he was sure that it’d be something hurtful. Telling Kurt that he should leave Sam alone seemed high in the list, but then they had also been the ones who brought Sam to apologize. 

“Kurt... the first thing I wanted to say, is that we’re sorry.” Dwight said, his voice a calm concerned drawl, “I know it’ll be hard to believe, but we did not raise our son to act this way.” 

Kurt paused, and looked up slowly. Sam had shuffled a little away, and was looking at the table as though his gaze was the only thing anchoring him in the moment, and he risked being lost at sea if he looked away.. “I’m sorry?” 

“No, we are sorry.” Dwight’s face was set as stone, and the way he glanced at Sam made Kurt feel guilty. “I hope that Sam actually apologized whilst he waited for your phone call with your father.” 

“He did, Sir.” Kurt nodded slowly, and Dwight’s lips twitched up for a moment. 

“We’ve told you Kurt, Dwight and Mary,” He looked back to Sam and worked his jaw for a moment. “We have made it clear to Sam that none of those miscreants are welcome in our new home. But you are always welcome. If you ever need help, with anything, call us and we’ll be there.” 

“Sir-” Kurt tried to correct himself, but he couldn’t force the casual first name out of his mouth in the moment, “I don’t know what Sam told you, but-” 

“Everything, Kurt. I told them... all of it.” Sam said, softly. 

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Kurt shook his head, “Sir, I blackmailed Sam. I gathered evidence that would have lost him his job, and would have gotten him at the very least suspended from school. I’m not the good guy here.” 

“Sam explained that. And we’re sorry that you felt that was necessary, but... we can’t fault you for trying to keep yourself safe, Kurt. And Sam is convinced you wouldn’t have used it.” 

“I don’t know if he’s right. This past week... I’ve had the emails ready. On my birthday, I sat in front of my computer and typed the email addresses in and deleted them over and over again.” Kurt shook his head, “I would have hurt Sam just so that I didn’t have to be the only one hurting anymore.” 

“It was your birthday?” Sam’s voice made Kurt flinch, and he waved off the question. 

Dwight frowned lightly, and sipped his drink. Kurt looked down at the table shame faced, waiting for someone to tell him to leave, or to shout. “We didn’t raise a coward, Kurt. We thought we raised the kind of boy who would stand up for people and try to help them. If you had done those things... I don’t know if we’d have been able to blame you. Especially considering that whilst all this was going on and Sam was helping kids assault you, you gave him money to keep us in a home.” 

“That... I couldn’t live with myself if I let your other children get kicked out onto the street.” 

“Your father raised a good son. Better than us at the very least.” Dwight reached across and patted Kurt’s hand briefly. Kurt didn’t flinch away, but when he glanced at Sam, he could see that Sam had tear marks on his face. 

“I.... Sir- Dwight. Can I please speak on Sam’s behalf for a moment?” He asked, moving his drink out of the way and folding his hands in front of him. 

“It’s a free country,” Dwight gestured around and sat up straighter. 

“McKinley High is a living hell. The principle won’t do anything about it, unless you go in there with a lawyer and irrefutable proof. The School Board turn down any progressive ideas that people bring up, and... let’s say they don’t have a high opinion of kids like me. But the halls are where it's the worst. I can’t count the number of times I’ve gone home covered in bruises, or had to pay to replace books, or been doused in slushies.” 

“That’s terrible,” Dwight’s frown returned deeper, “You shouldn’t have to put up with that.” 

“I shouldn’t. I’ll agree to that completely.” Kurt nodded, and then took a deep breath. “Sam takes part in a violent contact sport. I get injured plenty walking from class to class, but if people knew that Sam was my friend, if they suspected him for a second of defending the gay kid... I would genuinely be terrified for his physical safety on the football field.” 

Dwight’s frown deepened further, and then he glanced to Sam again, before looking back to Kurt. “So, Sam should stop playing football?” 

“No,” Kurt shook his head, “I mean, maybe when he first started, but... not to sound like a bad mafia movie, but he’s in too deep now. There’d be questions about why he quit. And Sam could lie and say that you can’t afford the things surrounding it, but the football team would band together to get that stuff for him. So, he would say his parents made him. And then the team would try to work out why you stopped him playing. You’d both get harassed for weakening the team. And... none of this stops them bullying me or anyone else. So, the actual thought that Sam would step in and protect me leads to the next step. They would decide I made Sam quit. And then the threat to me would be even higher.” 

Dwight sighed softly, “You’ve really thought this through.” 

“I have a lot of free time...Can I tell you something I haven’t even told my dad?” Kurt asked, shuffling forward a little. Dwight nodded slowly, and Kurt swallowed his nerves, “Last year, our spanish teacher tried to start a show choir at our school. It never got further than auditions, there was only me and three other girls, not even enough to pass the bar for a new club. For a couple of days, I tried to stay friends with the other three girls, until it became obvious that me just... being around them, made them a bigger target. I couldn’t keep doing that to them, and that was when I realised that I couldn’t have any friends at school. My existence, in relation to other people, puts them at risk.” 

“That sounds awful lonely, kid.” 

“Honestly... since the night I started blackmailing your son, it’s the least lonely I’ve felt in... maybe a decade.” Kurt admitted quietly, “And it’s really hard to believe he actually wants to spend time with me, but... if I don’t find a way to believe it, I don’t think I’ll make it to senior year.” 

“Kurt.” Sam practically gasped, a horrified look on his face. Kurt barely had a moment to realize how that sounded before he was wrapped in a bone cracking hug, Sam’s face pressed into the crook of his shoulder. Kurt froze, unsure how to react, glancing at Dwight in case this was a step too far, but Dwight looked just as devastated, so Kurt just gently pat Sam’s back until he released him. “Please... don’t say things like that. Please.” 

“I have no intention of hurting myself. I don’t think my dad could live through losing me too.” Kurt said, forcing a smile. “I’ll be okay. My point was just... Please don’t make Sam put himself at risk, just to try and help me. Because I don’t think it will, and I can’t carry the burden of ruining another person's life by just existing.” 

Dwight nodded slowly, and sighed, “Sam can stay on the football team, if that’s what you think is best. But you are not spending time with those people outside of what is required.” 

“Yes, sir.” Sam nodded jerkily, and Kurt felt a tight pressure on his hand, looking down to see that Sam had taken it into his own, and was clinging to it. 

“Kurt, like I said, our home is always open to you.” Dwight continued; his jaw set tight. “I know it can be hard to talk about... heavy stuff with family. So, if it’s easier, we’re just friendly strangers who think you’re a good kid.” 

“I’ll try to keep that in mind, Sir.” Kurt forced a smile. “Well... this has been quite emotional. Perhaps we should take a moment to collect ourselves, and then I’ll buy us a dessert to apologize for destroying the masculine mystique of the moment.” 

“Ah, don’t mind Sam. He’s always been a crier when emotions get involved. He still tears up at me and his mom’s wedding tape on our anniversary. God help him when he gets to prom and that kind of thing.” 

“I’d say this is humiliating, but something tells me that’s the point,” Sam mumbled, wiping at his face, “I’m just going to go to the bathroom and wash my face.” 

“Here.” Kurt said, stepping out of the booth so Sam could slip past and offering some moist towelettes from his bag. “Better than tissue paper.” 

“Always prepared,” Sam smiled sadly, but took the offered wipes and vanished into the bathroom. Kurt awkwardly perched on the edge of the booth, waiting for him to come back, but Dwight took another sip of his drink and spoke. 

“He really likes you, you know?” 

“You’ll forgive me if I have a little trouble believing anyone likes me. It hasn’t been my experience so far in life.” Kurt shrugged, and Dwight shook his head. 

“Sam feels things deep and quick. And he doesn’t often change his mind. He really cares about you, and after everyone found out about the motel, he was torn up about not seeing you. He was checking his phone every 10 minutes, and you wouldn’t believe the number of times he wrote a message and then got rid of it.” Dwight shrugged, “I wish he was brave enough and strong enough to deal with that place, but... if he isn’t, I hope that being friends outside of school will somehow be enough.” 

“It is. For me at least. I don’t have anyone else, Dwight. Me, my dad, and... now Sam I guess.” 

“You got us too, kid.” Dwight said, and then glanced towards the bathroom with a small smile, “Here he comes.” 

Kurt jumped to his feet as Sam quickly came back, and slipped into the booth. He offered Kurt a small smile, and took his hand under the table this time, before coughing lightly. “So... uh... are we done talking about this for now? And if we are, someone’s going to have to come up with a new topic of conversation, because silence will destroy me.” 

Dwight shook his head wryly, and glanced around before pointing to a small plaque on the wall laying out the owners family history and starting a conversation about that. 

Sam didn’t let go of Kurt’s hand until Mary returned with Stacy and Stevie, and Kurt wasn’t sure how he felt about any of that. 

* * *

Kurt thought he would be happier with Sam as his friend again, and he still hoped he would in time, but when he woke on Sunday he quickly felt his spirits sink again. The Evans were wonderful. Dwight didn't treat Kurt like any less of a man because of the way he dressed or his high voice, but also didn't push Kurt on topics to do with sport. Kurt had always been more comfortable with women anyway, and Mary was utterly delightful to talk to. Stacy was an explosion of energy all the time, whilst Stevie was quieter and more sedate. 

Sam had clung to Kurt's side for the rest of the afternoon. At the time, Kurt had been pushing aside his own feelings on the situation, and he would continue to, but in the light of a new day he had to wonder how much of it was real. Kurt couldn't deny that Sam had been affected by Kurt standing up for him, but... he must have seen the way that even the small crumb of affection had affected Kurt. It was a quick way to get back into Kurt's good graces.

Without much thought, he turned to his phone and pulled up the file of Sam's confession. He had deleted the pizza recording the previous evening when he returned, because it wasn't useful anymore. It had felt good to do so, like shedding a layer of something gross. But as his thumb hovered over the larger confession, he couldn't bring himself to do anything.

He was trying to believe Dwight and Mary who said they would be on his side. He was trying to believe Sam who insisted that they were friends despite the blackmail, and not simply because of it. 

The only way to know for sure would be to pretend he had gotten rid of the blackmail, and see what Sam did. But he couldn't do that. Not just because the lying rubbed him the wrong way, but because... what if he was right? He could bring Sam back into line but Sam would know he had been caught and the fake friendship would be gone. And even a fake friendship was better than nothing. 

His Sunday morning was consumed by those thoughts, and when he received a message from Sam asking if he wanted to come and see the apartment, it was another war of whether to accept or refuse. Before he had come to a decision, Sam added that Stacy wanted to show him her new room, and Kurt was too much of a pushover to say no to a child.

The apartment was on the third floor of a tall building, and Kurt was sure to part the Navigator in the darkest part of the parking area before he made his way up the stairs. It wasn't exactly luxurious, but it was well lit and had wide halls. Kurt made sure to keep his head down, one of his dad's jackets pulled tightly around him, doing everything he could to be as unobtrusive and unremarkable as possible. 

Sam answered after two short knocks, and Kurt couldn't help but smile back briefly as the warmth bloomed in his stomach again. "You should let me in before anyone sees me," He said a little sharply, but Sam didn't seem to mind, instead standing aside and letting Kurt into the apartment.

It was nice. Relatively small, but just on a glance around the living room, Kurt could see a doorway that led into a kitchen area on the left, a door against the wall to the right, and two more directly opposite. It did mean that the living room had no natural light, but... again, it was a solid step up from the motel. Kurt had to imagine that both bedrooms would face out into the city proper. 

The living room was mainly dominated by seats. A large couch in the center facing a TV, with two armchairs on either side, all surrounding a small table at the center. The wallpaper was a little old fashioned for Kurt's tastes, but he didn't mention it. All in all, it looked and felt like a home.

"You never mentioned how you found this place," Kurt said curiously, glancing into a small but serviceable kitchen area. Nowhere to sit and eat, but Kurt could imagine that the family would be able to survive without the ability to host dinner parties. 

"My mom said that a guy named Rory suggested it?" Sam shrugged, "Just good luck." 

"It's nice." Kurt said, glancing around once more, before he paused and tilted his head. "Where are Stevie and Stacy? No offense, but I kind of expected them to charge me." 

"Stacy maybe," Sam grinned, and gestured to the couch. Kurt moved with him, and glanced at the armchair nearest the door, "Feel free. It's not anyone's chair specifically." Sam added, and Kurt carefully sat down. "My mom and dad took the terrors out to buy some school stuff they needed. They'll be an hour or so." 

"Oh..." Kurt nodded slowly, "and they're okay with me... being here?"

"They already said that you're always welcome," Sam assured and then paused. "I... uh... I wanted to apologize-" 

"You've already apologised Sam. And I said I understood." 

"Understood, but not forgiven," Sam shrugged, and then shook his head, "No... specifically, I wanted to apologize for missing your birthday. And... I wanted to check.... did we paintball you on your birthday?" He winced, as though the idea of Kurt's answer was going to be a physical blow, as opposed to the literal bruises Kurt had had for the next couple of days.

"The day before," he said after a moment, "You couldn't have known. It's not as though I know your birthday." 

"March, it had already passed before we were friends," Sam shrugged, "but we were friends before your birthday. I didn't have any money to buy you anything-" 

"I wouldn't have asked you to do that." Kurt leaned back a little, "I appreciate the thought, but you don't have to get me anything." 

"See, if I make you uncomfortable about something else immediately, you don't deny that we're friends." Sam winked, and then reached under the couch, before pulling out a guitar. "Like I said, I didn't have any money to buy you anything, so I thought I'd do something else for the big one seven."

Kurt considered for a moment, and then corrected him, "I'm actually 18 now." 

"Well, now I definitely have to sing for you," Sam said, and then tilted his head as he examined the strings.

_ I watched the proverbial sunrise _

_ Coming up over the Pacific and _

_ You might think I'm losing my mind _

_ But I will shy away from the specifics _

_ 'Cause I don't want you to know where I am _

_ 'Cause then you'll see my heart _

_ In the saddest state it's ever been _

_ And this is no place to try and live my life _

_ Stop right there. That's exactly where I lost it _

_ See that line. I never should have crossed it _

_ Stop right there. I never should have said that _

_ It's the very moment that I wish that I could take back _

_ I'm sorry for the person I became _

_ I'm sorry that it took so long for me to change _

_ I'm ready to be sure I never become that way again _

_ 'Cause who I am hates who I've been _

_ Who I am hates who I've been _

_ And I talk to absolutely no one _

_ Couldn't keep to myself enough _

_ And the things bottled inside have finally begun _

_ To create so much pressure that I'll soon blow up _

_ And I heard the reverberating footsteps _

_ Syncing up to the beating of my heart _

_ And I was positive that unless I got myself together _

_ I would watch me fall apart _

_ And I can't let that happen again _

_ 'Cause then you'll see my heart _

_ In the saddest state it's ever been _

_ And this is no place to try and live my life _

_ I'm sorry for the person I became _

_ I'm sorry that it took so long for me to change _

_ I'm ready to try never become that way again _

_ 'Cause who I am hates who I've been _

_ Who I am hates who I've been _

  
  


"Well, you've certainly struck a weak point," Kurt said after a few moments of silence, taking a shaky breath to steady himself, as Sam looked up nervously. "You're a good singer." 

"It was... more about the message." Sam shrugged, putting the guitar to one side. "but as soon as I get some money, we're going to do something fun. There's this place that lets you make your own pottery, or we can go mini-golfing. I can try and sneak us into that gay bar in Columbus, cause people usually assume I'm older, and lets be real, I'm a catch-" 

"You don't have to do any of that," Kurt said, and then sighed, "You can't do most of that. We can't go out in public in Lima." 

Sam opened his mouth to argue and then huffed loudly. "We'll do something. I'll work something out." 

"Honestly, it's nice to have someone who wants to spend time with me." Kurt shrugged, and then quickly changed the topic. "Where'd you get the guitar?"

"Oh! I..." Sam paused and scratched the back of his neck, "So, Puck does this pool cleaning business, and he traded me a couple of days' work for one of his old ones." 

"You know the rumors about those jobs, right?" Kurt said carefully, "He didn't... you didn't have to- I mean, obviously it's your business, you don't have to tell me." 

"I didn't sleep with any housewives or househusbands." Sam assured him, "It was more like... stripping, you know? Look at the pool cleaners but don't touch." 

Kurt frowned, but didn't give voice to his opinions on that. "So... is there anything else to this birthday surprise?" 

"Oh, I made some cupcakes earlier with my mom, and then I got a couple of musicals on my USB stick." Sam said, with a bright smile. "We can do it here, or yours. Or... I can just give you the stick and you can go home, if you don't want to hang out."

"I suppose that I could be convinced to stay for a while, to see Stacy and Steve," Kurt said with a dramatic eye roll and a small smile, "but if your parents are okay with it, we can head over to mine to watch another."

"Sounds like a plan." 

* * *

Everything returned to a steady equilibrium after that. Sam came over a couple of times a week, and Kurt visited the Evans for an hour or two most weekends. The apartment was cramped, and Sam shared a room with his siblings, but there is apparently talk about trading in the apartment for a bigger one upstairs once the people occupying it left, and the whole place felt... home-y. Kurt had a mug there that he always got his drinks in, there was always enough food for him to share, and Mary and Dwight would always take the time to listen to him talk about... whatever he wanted to talk about. It was almost like spending time with his dad, but with more people. 

There was a strange ease to everything. School sucked, but it was made easier to know he had a place to go afterwards, someone who would respond to his texts, people who were excited to see him. 

But then, one evening as Kurt sat at the sofa in the Evan’s living room, absently stitching a tear in a pair of Stacy’s jeans he’d noticed earlier, Sam's phone buzzed. Kurt paused mid-stitch as Sam read the message and then froze, slowly looked up at him. 

“I need to go somewhere,” He said simply, standing and grabbing his jacket. 

“To the best of my knowledge, you're still under house arrest,” Kurt tried to joke, but Sam didn’t smile in response. “Is everything okay?” 

“No...” Sam shook his head, glancing toward the bedroom door, the noise of Stacy and Stevie's cartoons filtering out, “Kurt, I hate to ask, but... can you stay with then? My mom and dad are on a date night and-” 

Kurt shook his head and stood up, “Yeah, of course. Are you... I can throw us all in the Navigator-" 

“That'll just make things worse. I'm going to run over there and-" Sam slipped his shoes on, “I might be a while. Don’t cover for me with my parents, I'll deal with them when I get home.” 

“Look, take my car, if you need it,” Kurt muttered, holding out the keys awkwardly. “Then you'll be back before them, hopefully.” 

“I...” Sam let out a small huff of desperation, and took the keys gently, “I'll keep her safe.” 

“Don’t get pulled over, and also don’t refer to my baby as a girl.” Kurt warned, and watched as Sam sprinted out of the apartment. Kurt took his sewing project and stepped into the living room, quietly deflecting the kids questions and turning their attention back to the TV. 

Half an hour later he got a text. 

**_BM: On my way, please put Stevie and Stacy to bed._ **

Kurt sighed and he carefully ushered the two kids into their beds, sitting and quietly reading to them for a few minutes, before handing Stacy the book to continue and closing the door behind him. Instinctively, he spent a little time cleaning up, just for something to do, and then started making a pair of coffees, as he heard the front door open. 

“And this is Chez Evans.” Sam’s voice was bright and airy and just a little too casual. “Just put your stuff anywhere, bathroom is that door if you need it, I'll be two minutes.” 

Kurt heard Sam slip into his bedroom, and stood carefully out of the way of the door frame leading into the kitchen. Someone was moving around in the living room, and Kurt’s stomach clenched tightly as he heard the footsteps approach the kitchen. He didn’t know who it was, and he didn’t have anything to protect himself. He instinctively pressed himself into the darkest corner of the room, which was still light enough that he was offered no protection as somebody awkwardly lumbered into the room, and started filling a glass of water. 

David Karofsky. 

After Hudson’s little gang, Kurt considered the teen his biggest bully. There wasn’t a week that went by that he didn’t get a slushy from Dave, or the teen said something that made Kurt wonder if he would snap and just beat the crap out of Kurt with his fists, instead of just shoving him into something as he passed. 

Once the glass was full, Karofsky turned and looked at Kurt briefly, without any real rage or disgust on his face. “Huh.” He said calmly, and then walked back into the living room as if this wasn’t a big deal. Kurt couldn’t move, reaching for his phone in his pocket before he had a flash of him putting it down next to the remote after he had made a note to google something tonight. It wasn’t that far away, just in the living room. But- 

The door to the kids bedroom opened, and Sam spoke softly in the living room, “Hey, have you seen-” 

“Your boyfriend is in the kitchen.” Karofsky’s voice was low, and Kurt flinched at the word, but Sam snorted. 

“Like I’d get that lucky.” Kurt heard the footsteps approach, and closed his eyes tight as someone stepped into the room. He waited for someone to shove him, or for the wind to be forced out of his lungs by a fist or shove. But instead someone took a deep breath, and the floor creaked quietly, “Kurt? Are you okay?” Sam’s voice was soft, and there was clearly nervousness there. Kurt shook his head and the floorboards creaked again. “You’re okay. You’re safe here. I’d never let anyone hurt you in my house.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Kurt muttered, finally taking a breath and forcing his eyes open. “I know you might believe it, Sam. But I don’t think you’d stop Karofsky if he decided to beat me up.” 

Sam flinched, but took a breath, “He won’t. Not here.” 

“Why wouldn’t he?” Kurt snapped, trying to keep his voice too quiet to be heard. “And you know your parents said you couldn’t bring any of them here. The very least that you could have done was give me a warning.” 

“Relax, Fancy,” Karofsky’s voice came from the doorway, making Kurt flinch again. He was leaning on the door frame, sipping his water and watching the two of them carefully, and Kurt couldn’t tell if he was trying to appear menacing, or if it was just his learnt experience, “They say that they’re more scared of you, than you are of them.” 

“Why would you be scared of me,” Kurt moved slightly so that Sam was more obviously between them, his voice getting a little higher. 

“Cause I found out tonight I’ve got no-one on my side. And Sam putting me up is pretty reliant on you being happy.” Karofsky finished the glass and put it in the sink. “I thought you’d talked to him.” 

“I didn’t tell him who you are. It’s bad form to name names without asking.” Sam glanced over his shoulder briefly, before turning to Kurt again. “You remember the night I met your dad?” 

“Of course,” Kurt frowned deeply, “What does that have to do with... this?” 

“You asked if it was Mike?” Sam prompted softly, and Karofsky let out a bark of laughter. 

“Chang? He’s got a hard on for that girl with a stutter.” 

“Oh, like you’ve never looked at him,” Sam shot over his shoulder, and Karofsky blushed bright red. “Admit it, Mike keeps it tight. And unlike the present company, he doesn’t go out of his way to be an asshole.” 

“Wait-” Kurt blinked glancing between the two of them, “Him?” 

“Yeah, Fancy. I’m the other fag-” Karofsky started, and Sam turned and punched him lightly in the arm. “Fuck. Fine. I’m the other gay guy.” 

“David here thought he was slick checking me out, but I noticed near the start of the year. Gave him space to talk about it with another guy like him. He’s an asshole, but, once we actually got through all the family stuff, and the whole ‘hating people who act gay’ thing.” Sam explained to Kurt, putting a hand softly on Kurt’s arm. “He needs help right now, and I wanted to slowly ease you two in meeting, but... safety before ease.” 

“What could make Karofsky ‘unsafe’,” Kurt put finger quotes around the word, and the amusement on David’s face vanished into a strange kind of anguish. Sam’s soft look faded quickly too. 

“That’s not my story to tell,” Sam said quietly, stepping back, “but Dave might be staying here a while, so... if you two can’t get along, then... we’ll have to work out something else. Maybe I can just visit you at your house.” 

“Well, Karofsky is going home at some point,” Kurt muttered, and Sam visibly flinched. Kurt frowned, and glanced to Karofsky who had tears in his eyes. “right?” Kurt continued, but it was barely a breath as the situation started to dawn on him. “Oh.” 

“My mom and dad have said that Dave can stay as long as he needs,” Sam said after a moment, “and as always Kurt, you could do a lot of damage here. I know that makes you feel safer, knowing that, but if you tell my parents that Dave shouldn’t stay here... they’ll try and work something else out, but Dave needs friends and support right now. So... please try and make it work, if you can.” 

Kurt opened his mouth to argue, to point out that Karofsky was physically dangerous, that Sam’s family couldn’t afford to take in another teenager, any of a dozen reasons why this was stupid. But instead, he forced himself to take a deep breath. “I don’t agree with this choice. Karofsky has done nothing but make my life miserable for as long as I’ve known him. I don’t care if it’s self-hatred that he was aiming outwards, he made my life hell.” 

“So did I.” Sam said softly, and Kurt flinched. 

“Well, I don’t have any particular reason to trust him,” he snapped back, before taking another breath, “But... I’m not going to say anything to your parents unless he makes me feel unsafe here. I can’t say I’ll be particularly friendly unless by some miracle he earns it, and he isn’t to come to my home. And he can’t tell anyone that we’re friends.” 

“Why wouldn’t you want anyone knowing that Sam is your friend? A loser like you can’t think you’re better than him.” Karofsky said, his eyes jerking up darkly, and Kurt flinched. 

“Because if it ever got out that I’m turning football players, Karofsky, I’d be lucky if I made it out of that school alive.” Kurt snapped at him, and Karofsky looked down quickly. Kurt took a moment and then let out a slow breath to try and steady himself. “I can’t be responsible for Sam getting hurt. And if people knew that we... spend time together-” 

“-that we’re friends-” Sam cut in briefly, and Kurt shot him a look too. 

“-he would get hurt. And I would get hurt. So we only really spend time together outside of school. Got it?” 

“Got it.” Karofsky muttered, and Kurt nodded to himself. The other teen looked different out of school, still large and intimidating, but... there was a defeated quality now that stung to look at. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about... whatever led here. Nobody should have to go through that, even... people I don’t like.” 

Karofsky nodded, and the three of them stood in silence for a moment, until Sam gave Kurt a pointed look and then glanced towards the living room. Kurt rolled his eyes and moved towards the doorway. He tried to look confident as he stepped past Karofsky, but there was the barest flicker of motion, and Kurt immediately stepped back, pressing his back against the doorframe, and covering his stomach with an arm. 

It took a few moments to realise Karofsky had just been straightening up to let Kurt get by more easily, but now he looked like Kurt had physically struck him. Kurt quickly shot past him, grabbing his phone and carefully setting himself on the couch. 

He pretended not to hear the muffled noise of crying, and the sound of someone rubbing circles into fabric as Sam quietly whispered, “It’s going to be okay. It’ll all be okay.” 

  
  


* * *

It’s very tense, being in a room with both Sam and Karofsky. He didn’t comment when Sam turned the TV to some football game, because at least that cut through the silence of the situation, but Kurt found himself watching the two of them talk more than anything, only to glance back down at his phone whenever either turned their attention towards him. 

Sam talked easily to Karofsky, as if they were just two guys who knew each other from school. Karofsky for his part was a little more guarded and sharper with his answers, but ultimately they fit together well, Sam slowly drawing the other teen out of his shell. 

Kurt wasn’t sure if he was hurt, or if he was jealous. Of course Sam would find it easier to help Kurt’s tormentor than help Kurt. They had a lot more in common. They could actually spend time together doing things they enjoyed, in public. And maybe Karofsky was more Sam’s type of guy. There was certainly a kind of masculine appeal there- but even as Kurt looked Dave up and down, his stomach twisted in a tight knot and he looked away quickly. Some hindquarter of his brain roared that it wasn’t safe, that those kind of thoughts only lead to dangerous situations, where people like Hudson ended up throwing things and kicking and- 

“You okay, Kurt?” Sam’s voice cut through the sudden panic, and Kurt glanced over at Sam’s concerned face. “You... were blushing, and now you’ve kind of gone really pale.” 

“He was probably thinking dirty things about you, Evans.” Karofsky muttered, turning back towards the TV. 

“Everyone does,” Sam grinned at Karofsky, but then turned back to Kurt. “Was that it?” 

“No, I’m not one of those predatory gays like Sandy Ryerson.” Kurt snapped sharply, and Sam reared back in confusion and concern. The moment almost turned tense, until Karofsky snorted. 

“I don’t think anyone could be a creep like Ryerson,” He muttered, “Dude was like... the biggest creep.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever met him,” Sam looked between the two of them, frowning. 

“Trust me, if you had, you’d know about it. A solid... 20% of the homophobia at that school can be put on him.” Karofsky gestured to Kurt, “Am I right?” 

“He made my skin crawl,” Kurt said slowly, and Karofsky snapped his fingers and nodded. Emboldened by the positive experience, he added, “You know it was Rachel Berry that finally got him kicked out?” 

“Thank god. Honestly, I almost kind of respect her for that. He was always so touchy.” Karofsky shuddered, “I always kinda felt bad for that Saunders kid, you know?” 

Kurt nodded, and Karofsky turned back towards the TV again seemingly satisfied with that interaction. Glancing back to Sam, Kurt saw a small smile tug at his lips, but when he noticed Kurt looking, it faded and he shuffled closer, speaking as quietly as possible. 

“You know you’re not, right? A creep?” 

“Obviously I’m not. I’m not going to go around touching up high school guys,” Kurt rolled his eyes. 

“I mean, unless you’re only going to date older men, or you’re planning on waiting until you’re out of high school-” Sam shrugged, “but I mean, if you were thinking about a guy... you know that’s okay, right?” 

“It isn’t okay, Sam.” Kurt whispered back, “thinking about guys at school like that would get me beaten black and blue if anyone found out.” 

“He’s not wrong.” Karofsky shrugged, clearly not respecting the attempt at a private conversation. “I heard what happened with Hudson when you were making moon eyes at him. Even Puck felt shitty about that.” 

“I was an idiot. I thought because he was letting me take off my coat before I got thrown in the trash that he might actually respect me. He was just keeping me docile, but I blew it up my mind for a little while. Thought he might be a good one. That turned out great.” 

Sam frowned, and reached out to gently touch Kurt’s hand. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Kurt said, moving away. “I will just explore that element of myself once I’m out of Lima.” 

“That’s what I told myself too,” Karofsky muttered, and Kurt glanced towards him in surprise. “I mean, I told myself I wasn’t gay, obviously, but... when it became harder to ignore, I thought... oh, I’ll just experiment in college. That’s what guys do.” He reached down and picked up one of Stevie’s action figures from next to the chair, gently twisting and posing the arms. “But it got harder to ignore. And I got really fucking angry at the guys I was thinking about, like it was their fault. And when it wasn’t their fault, it was me. I was the one who was doing something wrong, and I just needed to stop doing it. But... we both know that isn’t how it works. You can’t stop yourself from thinking it, all you’re doing is hurting yourself after you've already done it.” 

“That’s... very self aware.” Kurt muttered, and Karofsky snorted. 

“Blame him,” He gestured at Sam, “Before he caught me, I wasn’t. I was angry at him, but I knew I couldn’t do shit about it because of Hudson and his crew. When he took me aside, I was ready to beat the crap out of him, and then he just... talked to me. Told me the truth about himself, and about me.” 

“When I was at the all-boys school before I came here, I had to talk a few guys down,” Sam shrugged, “I got pretty good at it.” 

“I always thought those all-dude things were a breeding ground for f-” Karofsky paused, and glanced at Kurt again, “for gay kids. I mean, a bunch of hormonal guys, spending all their time together? Roughhousing and shit?” 

“I think you also just described a football team.” Kurt muttered scathingly, and then froze, waiting for something awful to happen. Instead, Karofsky laughed, and Sam slapped his arm lightly. 

“I mean, you’re kind of right. So far two thirds of the gay kids we know are football players.” 

“Maybe it’s overcompensation. Don’t want to be outed? Be the straightest thing possible. Bonus points if you get to be hands on with other guys.” Karofsky grinned, and Sam snorted. 

“I always thought it was weird that the showers at McKinley are like, waist height and there’s no curtains.” Kurt said after a moment, feeling some of the tension slipping out of his shoulders. “It feels like such a deliberate choice too.” 

“Dude, it is the most uncomfortable thing,” Sam’s eyes went wide, as he nodded emphatically “I do not need to see Puck dangling when I'm trying to shower after practice.” 

“It’s traumatic, and he doesn’t even care,” Karofsky leaned forward towards Kurt, “Seriously, if it wouldn’t cause too many questions, I’d wanna do what you do and shower in that disabled shower.” 

Kurt opened his mouth, and then paused at the joke on the tip of his tongue. The two of them were clearly having a good time, but it felt like at any moment, he’d say something that crossed the line. He quickly recovered and rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t pray that hard. I think the janitor intentionally doesn’t clean it. I have to use the shower head to hose it all down before I can even get inside.” 

“I don’t know. Sounds better than-” Sam paused as there was the sound of keys in the front door and Mary and Dwight let themselves in. “Mom, Dad, this is Dave.” 

“David. Please, call me Mary, and this is Dwight,” Mary said with a warm smile, carefully slipping off her jacket. ”We came back as soon as we-” She paused as she noticed Kurt in the other chair, but recovered well, “as soon as Sam called us, but it was a bit of a distance. Kurt, honey, I thought you’d have headed home by now.” 

“Dave, good to meet you.” Dwight moved to shake Dave’s hand in a solid grip. “Sam says you two are on the football team, what position do you play?” 

“Kurt, I hate to impose, but maybe you could help me get some covers and stuff out of the wardrobe?” Mary suggested, and Kurt nodded gratefully, getting up and following her towards the main bedroom. He glanced back as he walked, and made eye contact with Sam who looked at him with a concerned look. 

Inside the bedroom, Mary quickly collected everything with little need for help, but turned towards Kurt and spoke quietly. “Are you okay?” 

“I... am.” Kurt nodded slowly, “I was scared at first. Me and Karofsky haven’t had the best relationship so far.” 

“I told Sam that he shouldn’t put you in this situation. If this won’t work out, tell us Kurt, and we’ll... find another solution. We told you that this home would be safe for you-” Mary began, running her hand through her hair nervously. 

“Can I be honest with you, Mrs. Evans?” Kurt asked, and Mary nodded gently, “I don’t trust Karofsky. Not... entirely. But we’ve spent an hour or so together tonight and... like Sam, he’s a different person outside of school. I don’t know the details of what’s happened, but from the sounds of it, there isn’t another good option. So... I’m willing to try and give Karofsky the benefit of the doubt, like I gave Sam. If it blows up in my face, I’ll be very upset. But my dad says that if you don’t try, then you’ll never achieve anything.” 

“Burt raised a good man,” Mary said gently, “You’ll tell me if he does anything, right?” 

“Of course,.” Kurt forced a warm smile. “It won’t be easy, but... Maybe this could help him be a better person.” 

“I hope so...” Mary sighed, and her face dropped for a moment, before she caught herself, “but either way, young man, I’m very aware that you have curfew coming up quickly.” 

“You would be correct,” Kurt nodded, and stepped towards the doors. “I’ll see you again soon.” 

“Sleep well, Kurt.” 

  
  


* * *

“You like Sam.” 

It was offered as a simple statement one evening as Kurt and Karofsky worked on their homework in relative silence in the living room. It’d been a week since Karofsky had moved in. Sam had stepped out to read a story to Stacy and Stevie, and Dwight and Mary were in their bedroom, leaving Kurt and Karofsky sitting as far apart as possible. 

Kurt looked up from his math and frowned, “as a friend.” 

“Sure,” Karofsky snorted, flipping to the next page. “I'm not blaming you, he’s hot.” 

“I already said that I don’t think about guys I know like that,” Kurt muttered back, “Why? Do you?” 

“Yeah,” Karofsky put the book to one side and rolled his neck. Kurt couldn’t help but look as Dave reached up and stretched, his t-shirt sleeves growing tight around his biceps as he lowered his hands to rest behind his head . Kurt felt a warm feeling low in his stomach, and shifted his legs a little to get more comfortable, but as his eyes traveled towards Karofsky’s face, he froze at the smirk he found there. The warm feeling fled immediately, and Kurt turned away as quickly as he could. “Jesus, Fancy. You’re more fucked up than I am.” Karofsky said after a moment, and Kurt tried not to react as Sam stepped out of the kids bedroom.” 

“Okay, first off, language around my brother and sister, dick.” He grumbled, slipping onto the couch, “I don’t want to have to explain to my parents where they heard it.” 

Karofsky grunted in acknowledgement and Sam turned towards Kurt, his exhaustion turning to concern. 

“Everything okay?” 

Kurt shrugged, picking up the book and tucking knees up in front of him for more of a barrier. 

“Fancy is into you. And maybe me too.” Karofsky said calmly and Kurt’s blood ran cold, waiting for the look of disgust he was so used to to flash over Sam's face. But Sam seemed to take it entirely in stride.   


“I mean, I get why he might like me,” Sam said gesturing to his body briefly, “but he's turned me down in the past, so it’s probably more complicated than that.” 

“No way is he turning you down.” Karofsky scrunched up his face in disbelief.  


Kurt bristled, and opened his mouth to argue. But the words caught in his throat. To explain why he’d turned down Sam’s ‘offer’ would mean Kurt would have to explain that the first offer was born out of an attempt to stop Kurt from ruining his life, and the second was as some twisted form of payment for Kurt giving him money. 

“Hey, Kurt’s a catch too,” Sam said easily, stepping into the silence without pause, “I don’t blame him for not wanting to make out with a bully.” 

Karofsky narrowed his eyes, “Don’t go looking for compliments, Evans. You know you’re a good guy.” 

“Not always. Not at school.” Sam shrugged, “I don’t blame Kurt for not liking me like that since I help make his life hell. I’d be lucky to get a guy like him.” 

“I am still sat here, you know?” Kurt snapped, and then curled further into himself as they turned to look at him. “I am aware that due to a number of reasons, I will not be leaving high school with many of the opportunities that other men have had. I won’t have my first kiss until college at the earliest, but I’m-” 

“You’ve had your first kiss,” Sam frowned, folding his arms, “I should know, I was there.” 

“We both know why that didn’t count, Evans, and why I can’t do that with you.” Kurt glared back, and the tension raised in the room quickly, silence filling a void between them. There was the soft sound of Dwight and Mary’s laptop in the bedroom, muffled by their attempts at soundproofing. 

“You must’ve been pretty bad at it if he’s saying it doesn’t count,” Karofsky joked, but it fell flat in the silence. The uncomfortable silence grew, and Kurt was at the verge of leaving when Karofsky muttered, “At least your first kiss wasn’t with Puckerman.” 

“Wait, what?” Sam blinked, his eyes going wide as he turned to look at Karofsky. “What’re you talking about? “ 

“Forget it, it’s not important.” Karofsky blushed a deep red, trying to turn away from the conversation. “Forget I mentioned anything.” 

“Oh no way dude, I need details!” Sam laughed, moving back across the couch to face Dave properly “Come on!” 

“It’s dumb!” Karofsky rolled his eyes and turned towards Kurt, “You don’t want to hear this right?” 

“I-” Kurt started to try a diplomatic answer, “We don’t know each other very well yet. I mean, it’s not as though Sam’s told me his sexual or romantic history either-” 

“Hey, I will if you ask. I’m an open book!” Sam gestured to himself. “Maybe we do like a trust circle thing.” 

“I think if we do, you’ll both be sorely disappointed by my contribution,” Kurt muttered mostly to himself, “I don’t even watch male erotica.” 

“What’s that?” Karofsky frowned, glancing to Sam as though he was some kind of authority. 

“I think he means porn,” Sam stage whispered back, and Karofsky nodded knowingly, his cheeks turning red again. Kurt could share that pain, as he started to blush too. “Why not? I mean, maybe you just haven’t found the right... stuff yet?” 

“I... I have tried,” Kurt muttered, scrunching up as tight as he could, “But I just have all these... conflicted feelings, okay?” 

“Conflicted about what?” Karofsky asked, and Kurt felt even more embarrassed about the honest curiosity of the question. 

“I... I could lie about how it always looks sweaty and gross, but...” Kurt sighed frustratedly, “I’ll be watching and suddenly I don’t feel safe. Or I feel guilty. Like someone is going to find out and-” He shook his head sharply, rather than finish that thought, “Or like if someone found about the erotica, they’d be ashamed of me, or that I’m a bad person for-” 

“Hey,” Sam’s hand closed on Kurt’s knee and Kurt jerked to a stop. “Hey... it’s okay, Kurt.” 

Kurt took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He glanced across as Karofsky, and there was a strange look of understanding across his face, that made Kurt want to sink into his seat. “I’m sorry for bringing the mood down.” 

“I’m glad you told me,” Sam said softly, removing his hand and looking at Kurt with all the sincerity of the world. “It... explains some things I’ve noticed.” 

That made Kurt feel even more uncomfortable, and he floundered for something to divert attention away from him. “So, Puckerman? How are you even alive now?” 

“Oh,” Karofsky paused, and then rolled his eyes, “Fine. It was at a house party, and we were all playing spin the bottle, and there were these two chicks who were like ‘We’re not going to make out with each other if the guys are going to pussy out’, so when Puckerman spun the bottle and it landed on me, we kissed. It wasn’t anything super meaningful or anything, but... Yeah.” 

“Was he any good?” Sam asked curiously, and Kurt blushed because, if rumors were to be believed then he’d have to be. He could see Karofsky’ blushing too but Sam seemed entirely unembarrassed, “He does it with so many people, he has to have gotten good.” 

“Let's just say I had a lot of conflicted feelings that night when I got home.” Karofsky grinned to himself and then, in one smooth motion, launched a cushion at Sam, “Your go.” 

“Fine, don’t be a dick,” Sam said, rolling his eyes and putting the cushion in his lap. "What do you wanna know?" 

"Who's the first guy you kissed," Karofsky asked, leaning forward curiously. 

"I don't think this is going to be as interesting as you think it is," Sam snorted, leaning back into the couch, "He was a junior on the soccer team, and he was out. I was curious, and then I wasn't curious anymore. I got my answer."

"So, is that number four for the gay people we know?" Kurt asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips again, "I'm genuinely starting to feel like the minority here. 75% of you are sports players." 

"I've dated dudes who don't play sports," Sam shrugged, and grinned, "But I already did my go. Your turn, Kurt." 

"You want me to talk about my first kiss?" Kurt narrowed his eyes and glanced briefly towards Karofsky before looking back to Sam. 

"I mean, yeah, but if you're not going to, why don't you just tell us something cool about you?" Sam suggested, "I mean, it's good to get to know each other." 

Kurt took a moment to consider that, not sure what he was supposed to confess to. In the end, he settled on the easiest option. "I'm a very good singer." 

"Everyone thinks that they're a good singer," Karofsky rolled his eyes, "Prove it." 

"I didn't ask you to prove that you kissed Puck," Kurt could feel himself immediately fall back onto the defensive, "I don't see why-" 

"I think," Sam said, shifting forward and making sure that he was in both their lines of sight, "that Dave's just having trouble being clear. We'd love to hear you sing." 

Karofsky had definitely intended to sound as though Kurt was lying, but in the name of keeping the peace, he stood and took a deep breath, falling into Being Alive as easily as breathing. 

_Somebody, need me too much,_

_Somebody, know me too well,_

_Somebody, pull me up short_

_And put me through hell_

_And give me support_

_For being alive,_

_Make me alive,_

_Make me alive,_

_Make me confused,_

_Mock me with praise,_

_Let me be used,_

_Vary my days._

_But alone is alone, not alive._

_Somebody, crowd me with love,_

_Somebody, force me to care,_

_Somebody, let me come through,_

_I'll always be there,_

_As frightened as you,_

_To help us survive_

_Being alive,_

_Being alive,_

_Being alive!_

His eyes had drifted shut over the course of the performance, and so he was surprised when he heard the gasps and polite applause. opening his eyes, he caught sight of Stacy and Stevie in their bedroom door, and Mary and Dwight in theirs. Mary and Dwight had been the ones clapping, smiling widely, whilst the kids were clearly entranced. 

His eyes jerked to Sam and Karofsky, and felt himself blushing as he saw a very similar look to the kids on Karofsky's face. Sam's face was split in a wide smile, his eyes trained on Kurt like he was the most amazing thing in the room. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" 

"Never apologize for singing like that," Mary lowered her hands, smiling widely, "It was beautiful." 

"I-" Kurt swallowed heavily, his face burning under the attention. "Thank you?" 

"You two are supposed to be in bed," Sam turned to his siblings. "And you two have work in the morning."

"Sam's right, kids. Go back to bed," Dwight's grin only got bigger as he moved to get the kids back into their room. Kurt sunk back into the chair, pulling his feet up underneath him, and trying to stop the painful hammering in his chest. Once everyone was back in their rooms, it became easier. 

"That was... good." Karofsky said, after a moment. "You're good at that." 

"Sam's a good singer too," Kurt insisted, gesturing, "It's not a big deal."

"Dude, take the compliment," Sam laughed, "You're really good. What other skills are you hiding?" 

Kurt gaped for a moment, and then gestured at Karofsky, "It's his turn." 

"Uh..." Karofsky blinked for a moment, and then blushed, scratching the back of his neck. "I don't... have anything cool really. I... make model planes sometimes? When I'm like... stressed or whatever. I used to do it with my grandad." 

"That's cool," Sam nodded encouragingly, and Karofsky watched him for a moment, his body tense before he slowly relaxed. "So what do you want to know?" 

A moment passed, and Karofsky turned to Kurt with a shrug, "I asked last time. You think of something." 

Kurt rolled his eyes, trying to work out what he wanted to know about Sam. He looked around for a moment, hoping he'd find something that would spark a question, but nothing did and he finally asked, "Are you and Quinn Fabray dating? Or did you date?"

Sam paused, and the amusement seemed to die on his face for a moment, before he met Kurt's eyes and sighed, "Why are you asking?" 

Kurt set his jaw, looking away feeling strangely ashamed that the answer suddenly meant a lot to him, "Well, I never got to ask any question after Jacob posted that article. You just shot me with paint balls." 

Karofsky could clearly feel the tension, and he looked like he was moments away from stepping in when Sam spoke again.

"I go to the same church as Quinn. She worked out we were homeless and babysat for Stevie and Stacy. I could have dated her, but I didn't." 

"Why not?" Kurt asked, his eyes jumping towards Sam and then looked away again. "I thought you liked girls too."

"Just because you like guys doesn't mean you want to date every guy you meet," Sam said, a strange look crossing his face for half a beat, and although Kurt couldn't place it, he felt a sudden need to defuse the tension.   


"Well, obviously. For one, I'd never stoop so low as Puckerman-" He gestured towards Karofsky.  


"-Hey, why am I getting burnt here?" Karofsky blinked, blushing a little, "I'm just minding my business." 

"But, Quinn is very attractive, and popular." Kurt finished, folding his arms, "Are you saying she's not your type?" 

"Small, bossy, with amazing legs." Sam rolled his eyes, "Obviously she's attractive, she's pretty much my exact type. But I like someone else."

"Oh?" Karofsky blinked, and turned to look at Kurt with owlish eyes. "Oh." 

"Who?" Kurt asked, the words tumbling out of his mouth, and Sam let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Do I know her? Or him? Is it.... I'm still just going straight back to Mike Chang. Please don't let it be Hudson." He winced at the last bit, feeling strangely jealous at the thought of it being either person, but he couldn't think of a single person that didn't make him immediately frustrated.  


"Seriously, maybe we need to ask if you have a crush on Chang," Sam snorted, and shrugged, "And I already answered more than enough. You have to answer a question, and then you should probably head home." 

Kurt frowned, a thousand more questions immediately coming to mind. "What do either of you want to ask?"

"You said you have a lot of skills. Have you got something else cool you can show us?" Karofsky asked at once, and Sam pointed at him in agreement. 

"Unfortunately most of the things I'm good at, require a surplus of space." Kurt said, considering for a few moments. He had spent a week or so getting to know Karofsky outside of school, and he was fairly convinced that he wasn't faking being gay. He hadn't threatened or hurt Kurt in any major way in the Evans house, and he'd even been absent from a lot of the bullying at school. A week wasn't a lot of time to divine a person's intentions, but it wasn't as though these people didn't know where Kurt lived anyway, "Why don't we..." He took a breath, and considered for a moment. Small steps. "Why don't we hang out at my house tomorrow? Unless you have- I mean, if you don't want to, that's fine too. I wanted to offer, but I understand it's still the gay kids house-" 

"Kurt." Karofsky's voice cut through the panicked chattering, and Kurt looked up waiting for some kind of hurtful remark. "You're the one who said you didn't want me there. So, are you sure?" 

Kurt nodded once sharply, and then managed a strained smile. "Maybe my first talent will convince you not to mess with me." 

"Well, that's... sinister." Sam said, and when he glanced over at Karofsky's concerned face, he couldn't help but burst into laughter. Kurt smiled serenely and then started collecting his stuff. 

Tomorrow would be fun. Or terrible. One or the other.


	3. Chapter 3

"You look... good, Hummel." 

Kurt looked down at himself in surprise, stepping back so that Sam and David could make their way inside the house. He'd made the decision to call Karofsky by his first name if he was being invited to the house, but he hadn't expected anything even approaching a compliment, and it threw his prepared speech about what they could and could not do in the house out of his mind. The outfit he had chosen was very understated, basically what he considered his dancing clothes. A tight black shirt, and then a pair of black shorts that fell below the knee. Black converse finished the outfit. The only accessory to glam it up was the black leather finger-less gloves that he liked to wear when he was practicing. 

"Thank you?" He said when he realized that the moment had gone on too long, "This isn't exactly my high fashion look." 

"You should see his pajamas, dude," Sam grinned slyly, "They're like... shiny." 

"If we're done talking about my clothing choices?" Kurt said, turning to lock the door again. "We'll go downstairs."

He led the way to the basement door and down into his living space, directing the two of them to the couch. They both settled in, and Kurt took a moment to stretch his arms and hands. 

"So what's the skill that kept Dave up half the night scared?" Sam asked as he settled in, laughing when David punched his arm lightly.

"Yes! Let's start there." Kurt said, moving to his stereo and turning on some light background music before reaching behind it for the carrying case. He pulled out the equipment as carefully as possible, and hid them behind his back before he took center stage.

The moment the two Sai Swords came into view, Sam's eyes went wide even as Karofsky leaned forward, entranced. Both jaws dropped as Kurt began to easily twirl the blades in his hands. He started slowly at first, and then picked up before he spoke.

“These used to belong to my mom. She did baton twirling in high school, and then upgraded to sais in college. She used to say it was very relaxing, but that it made her feel confident and in control of her body.” He made a point of appearing as though his attention was entirely off the blades as he spoke, letting them slip into a safe position as he finished. Putting them down on their carrying case, he shook out his arms, and then easily slipped into a back walkover. “Gymnastics has always been my exercise of choice, especially in my own home. Unfortunately it’s not offered as an option for men.” He said, as he casually lifted his leg over his head, before lowering it, and then himself, into the splits. Finally, he stood, did one back tuck, before moving into a handstand.

"How are you not a cheerio?" David asked, as Kurt came down from the handstand as gracefully as he went up into it.

"I'm not that good." He tried to deflect, ensuring his clothing was all correct.

"You're really good," David insisted, shaking his head in disbelief, "Seriously, you'd make the team no problem. And it'd have to have helped with the bullying."

"You'd think that," Kurt sighed, featuring to himself, "the main things I get bullied for are the feminine parts of me. The high voice, the fashion and singing and liking boys. I certainly didn't want to add cheerleader to the list of complaints. If I had been born a girl at this school, I'd have done amazing. The unholy trinity would have been begging for me to join their little trio. I'd have been my dad's little spoiled princess, dating a handsome guy... But all of that is out of my reach."

Dave's face fell, and a dark look flashed in his eyes for half a second, "That isn't fair."

"Things have very rarely been fair in my life." Kurt shrugged. "I'll just keep my head down, and then when I get to college, there might be a guy who likes me."

Dave turned to look at Sam, and then back to Kurt. "I... bet there are guys who like you now. Who are too chickenshit to do anything about it."

"You're very kind," Kurt let out a soft laugh, and put the gloves and Sai Swords away, "Now, we're not here to rehash my very depressing life. I think I still have Mario Kart for my Wii?"

"Sounds good!" Sam said, shifting away from Dave a little, giving him a sharp look that Kurt couldn't quite decipher. Kurt shrugged, and turned to his TV, setting up the game system and handing out the remotes. He’d begged his dad for it when it originally came out, with ideas that when he reached high school he would be able to invite people over to play games. 

He mainly played alone. 

When he turned back to the pair on the couch, they were clearly having a silent conversation, David narrowing his eyes at Sam, as Sam made intense and exaggerated eye contact back. He coughed politely. “I’m calling Yoshi, just so you’re aware.” He said as casually as possible, before moving to pull over his makeup chair.

“Dude, there’s enough room for you on here, so long as Sam doesn’t start throwing elbows,” David said, with a wide grin, shuffling over so there was a gap between him and Sam. Sam rolled his eyes, and Kurt tensed at the dismissive gesture, before Sam smiled and pat the couch.

“If there’s anyone you’ve got to watch, it’s Dave. Dude likes to wrestle to prove his point.” 

“You stole my phone!” Dave practically whined, “I was just trying to get it back.”

“Nah, you just wanted to wrestle on the couch,” Sam poked fun back, making Dave blush. “Yeah, watch out for him Kurt.”

“I intend to. First one who causes me a bruise in this house gets to see how much of my dad’s self defense lessons I remember,” Kurt said with fake casualness, sitting primly between them. He was suddenly aware of how much warmer it was, as David made himself more comfortable, and in doing so, moved Kurt closer to Sam. Kurt felt the bare skin of his arm rub against Sam’s own, and he tried his best not to show any outward reaction. This was just what teenage boys did, and Sam liked someone. And, Kurt reminded himself viciously, this was all because Kurt was blackmailing Sam.

They fell into the game easily, and Kurt started out doing well. But the better he did, the more Sam would chew at his lower lip in concentration, which entirely defeated Kurt’s ability to concentrate. And although David was being careful not to jolt Kurt, he was definitely slowly shifting into whatever space Kurt vacated, until Kurt looked over and realized that David had nearly half of the couch to himself, whilst he was practically sat on Sam’s hip. 

But neither of them complained about Kurt’s presence, even when Sam realized he couldn’t win a round, and reached around the back of Kurt’s head to wave his hand wildly in David’s face, and David tried to bat him away, but ended up over balancing and pushing them all into a pile on Sam’s end of the couch.

“See?” Sam laughed, putting his hand on David’s forehead and pushing him off the couch so he sprawled on the small rug. “I told you, he should have been a wrestler.” 

“Yeah, that’d have been great for hiding the gay thing,” David snorted, and Kurt couldn’t help but laugh too, until he realized that Sam’s arm had come back down and was now resting across his back, the two of them virtually cuddling on the couch. 

“Nah, you’d have been a great wrestler. I can see it now, you in one of those singlet things-” Sam said, the grin evident in his voice, “-wrestling dudes on mats, getting hot and-” 

“Well!” Kurt said quickly, sitting up and offering his hand to David to help him off the ground. “Whilst Sam has that little moment, I’ll commiserate with you that the men’s wrestling team at McKinley is abysmal. The only real competition you’d have would be Lauren Zizies, and that’s not a good way to get better.” 

“Yeah, she’d be way too good at crushing my self esteem.” David laughed, and let himself be pulled up onto the couch.

“I’m sure that if you made the wrestling team popular, Puckerman could be convinced to join. To show how much of a badass he is.” Kurt added after a moment, testing the waters with a small grin. David rolled his eyes dramatically.

“And I’m sure if you made some kind of like... dance team, you could hang out with Chang.” 

“Who does that leave me with?” Sam whined, and Kurt turned to pat him on the arm. 

“Well, we’d have to know who you liked to be able to come up with a fun club for the two of you to join.” Kurt said with mock sadness, before he grinned, “Until then, I suppose you’re stuck with me and David.”

He didn’t know why that made David laugh as hard as it did, or why Sam rolled his eyes so dramatically at Kurt’s attempt at kindness. So, he sat on David’s other side and spent the next four races completely destroying them in retribution. 

* * *

  
  


Kurt couldn’t help but smile at the small image on his phone. In the weeks since their first Mario Kart evening, Kurt, and Sam and David had spent three or four more afternoons at Kurt’s house whilst Burt was out, and maybe twice as many hanging out at Sam's. Burt no longer even asked where Kurt was going when he left the house, just smiled and told Kurt not to have too much fun at Sam’s house. He hadn’t been introduced to David yet, but that was more because of timing. 

The picture on his phone was from David, who had taken the time to draw a little Mario Kart trophy and send Kurt a picture, and although it wasn’t a particularly good drawing, it was something he had done in his own time to show he was still thinking about Kurt. The three of them messaged back and forth all the time now, and it was nice. 

But, he forgot the cardinal rule of McKinley High, which was to pay attention to where you were walking. Of course his attention was constantly scouting for Letterman jackets around him, but somehow he had missed the Cheerio uniform in front of him, until he had bumped into Santana Lopez, and sent her book sprawling to the ground. He immediately began to apologize, but before he got to the third syllable in I’m Sorry, his feet had left the ground as Hudson slammed him against the lockers bodily. Kurt could see the rest of his little gang, including Sam who was looking at his feet.

“You bullying my girl, fag?” He sneered, and Kurt swallowed heavily instinctively trying to press back and away from Hudson’s face. “Eh?”

“I thought she was Puckerman’s girl,” Kurt said, and then winced as he realized that wasn’t relevant, or helpful to his current situation. 

Hudson’s eyes got darker, and he pulled Kurt back from the locker and slammed him into again, as Santana looked on with a malicious glee in her eyes. Kurt did his best to just go as limp as he could, to try and avoid as much pain as he could. He closed his eyes tight, trying to breath as normally as possible. 

There was a splattering noise, and the hallway went silent. Kurt carefully cracked open an eye to find Hudson still holding him, still in front of him, but drenched from the side with an almost neon blue slushie, the eye slowly dripping down the side of his head. Kurt turned to glance to the side, and his heart did a weird frozen half jump as he saw David looking neutrally on, a mostly empty slushy cup in his hand.

“The fuck, Karofsky!” Hudson suddenly exploded, dropping Kurt and turning on David. “The fuck was that?”

“Was trying to get Hummel, not my fault you got in the way,” David shrugged, his eyes flicking very briefly to Kurt and then past him down the hallway. Kurt took a couple of very slow steps away from Hudson, who was advancing on David with rage on his face. He was almost home free when Abrams stepped in his way.

“Where are you going?” He asked, that annoying smirk on his face, “Don’t want to finish your chat, with your little crush?” 

Kurt swallowed heavily, glancing over his shoulder where Hudson was shoving David, and David was gearing up to shove Hudson back. If he was still here when the fight started-

“Let’s go back Finn up,” Sam stepped in next to Abrams, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We can always find Hummel later.” 

“Fine, you get a reprieve, Twink-erbell,” Abrams said, stepping around Kurt like he didn’t matter, “but better not let your guard down again.” 

Kurt didn’t wait for any more attempts, just fleeing as fast as he could from the scene of the crime. 

* * *

“Kurt? Door.” 

Kurt glanced down at his phone, but there was no message from either Sam or David that they were heading over. It was already dark outside too, and they tended to want to be home before Stevie and Stacy went to sleep. But perhaps after what had happened at the school that morning, there had been some necessity to a late night visit. He quickly climbed the stairs, to find a tense standoff at the door, at least on his dad’s side. He was glaring at David, who just looked upset.

“This kid says he’s your friend. Caught him trying to sneak to your bedroom window.” Burt said, his eyes narrowing even further. “Is he one of those punks from school?”

“No, dad. David is a friend.” Kurt assured, stepping closer and zeroing in on David’s clenched fist at his side. “Do you want to step inside, David?” 

“I...” David swallowed heavily, his eyes jumping to Burt and then back to Kurt. “I don’t want to be a problem-” 

“My dad is just being over protective, please, come in.” Kurt said, turning his attention to his dad who grumbled and stepped aside. 

“This better not be a sock on the door situation,” Burt muttered, but moved back towards his chair before Kurt could deny it. Kurt let David step inside, and then closed the door. 

“Let’s go downstairs for some privacy.” He said gently, but keeping his physical distance from Dave. The other boy nodded, and Kurt paused next to his dad, “He’s just a friend, but I’ll leave the door open.” 

Burt grunted an acknowledgement, and Kurt quickly followed David down the stairs, and sat carefully on the couch as Dave began to pace from one side of the room to the other. 

“Is everything okay?”

“No! How could you even pretend everything is okay?” Dave said, his hands tightening at his side even further as he walked backwards and forwards like he was full of trapped energy that needed some outlet.

“Did something happen at Sam’s?” Kurt tried to guess, and David stopped dead.

“No. I mean, yes, but I’m talking about what happened at school!”

“Did Hudson hurt you?” Kurt frowned, shuffling forward on the seat to inspect David more carefully. “I know there are issues surrounding going to a hospital right now, but being a nurse is not one of my many talents.”

“Kurt!” David snapped, cutting him off. Kurt's eyes immediately jumped to his face, where David was looking at him with concern and frustration, “He was gonna beat you to a pulp.” 

“But he didn’t,” Kurt said softly, “You... saved me, I guess.” 

“And Sam stood by and did nothing!” David snapped, “He just stood and watched. You’re not telling me that you’ve not got bruises all over your back tonight.” 

“I’ve had worse. _You’ve_ done worse.” 

That statement made David flinch, and Kurt watched his face go white, “I haven’t-”

“You have, David. You’ve slammed me against lockers hard enough to draw blood. You’ve tripped me so violently that I’ve had to hobble to the nurses office. Today was concerning, yes, but it isn’t uncommon.” Kurt looked away, and carefully put his hands on his knee. “I’m used to it. This wasn't a big deal.” 

David sunk to the ground sitting on the rug and staring blankly ahead for a couple of moments. Kurt didn’t try to interrupt, just let the other teen take a few deep breaths. 

“I didn’t think-” 

“David, I was terrified of you.” Kurt admitted, swallowing heavily, “Almost as much as I was scared of Hudson’s gang. Maybe even more because there were four of them to blame, and one of you. But once I heard your reasons, and you showed me you could be different, I’ve been willing to... work past it. Sometimes you still scare me. When you get angry and start clenching your fists, there’s this feeling at the back of my neck telling me to run away. But I can see that you are trying to find a middle ground between the person you have to be to survive at school, and a good person.” 

“Well-” Dave swallowed heavily, and then stood up. “Not anymore.”

“Not anymore, what?” Kurt asked, concern drawing up a frown.

“I’m not finding a middle ground, Hummel. I’m gonna do the right thing.”

“David, I don’t want you to endanger yourself-”  


“Well, I’m not letting you be in danger either.” David said, puffing up his chest. “You’ve been a friend, and I’m not letting anyone beat on you, same way I wouldn’t let anyone beat on my other friends.” 

Kurt resisted the urge to point out that those two things might not be able to happen concurrently. Instead, he stood up as well, and very slowly reached out to touch David’s shoulder. “David, I don’t want you to get hurt. Hudson and Abrams, and Puckerman will tear into you for defending people. Sam might too.” 

“Fuck them.” David narrowed his eyes, “Seriously. You’re my friend.” 

Kurt sighed, and squeezed David’s shoulder gently. “I can tell that me saying not to do this won’t work. But don’t bite off more than you can chew. I can’t be the cause of you getting hurt, David.” 

“And I can’t be the cause of you getting hurt,” David shot back, and then took a half step back. “I need to go. I’ve got to run back to Sam’s place before curfew.” 

“I could drive you?” Kurt offered, but David shook his head. 

“I need to tire myself out before I say something else that gets me in trouble over there.” He took another step back, and gave Kurt a small smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna be walking around the school with you. I’ll be like... a silent protector. In the background. You don't have to do anything, alright?” 

* * *

There was a tension in the friendship now. Sam and David were clearly frustrated, and Kurt had to assume it was at each other. Kurt often found David acting as a barrier between Hudson and himself, not specifically defending Kurt, but getting ready to throw down any time Hudson so much as approached him, ready to pick a fight for the tiniest of offenses. And Sam just stood passively in the background, watching.

Kurt didn’t like the tension. It made his skin crawl, and he was left to wonder what the outcome would be. If the two of them really fell out, Kurt would have to ask if David could move into their home. He wasn’t going to let him go back to his family. But if he was forced to take a side...

The pragmatic answer was to take Dave’s side, because he still had blackmail on Sam if he needed it. And on an emotional level, Dave was fighting for him, even if no-one else had realized it. 

He just didn’t want it to come to that, and he couldn't explain why he didn't want it to come to that in any way that made any logical sense. The idea of not picking Sam made his stomach hurt.

It had been three or four days since their last disastrous attempt to hang out at Sam’s house, when the tension was so thick that Dwight had sat down amongst them and turned on the football game just to break eye contact between Sam and Dave. Kurt hadn’t suggested they meet again since.

So, when Burt was called out to a set of cars that had been involved in some vehicular vandalism, Kurt was entirely alone.

And when someone hammered on the door, Kurt had gotten too used to it being a friend who was knocking. 

And when it wasn’t, Kurt was too surprised to react. 

“I worked it out,” Puckerman said, a wide smirk across his face as he leaned against the door frame, his foot sliding just inside to wedge it open. Kurt couldn’t react, his fingers twitching as his breath caught in his throat. “Very sneaky, Hummel.” Puck continued leaning forward, and the smell of alcohol rolled out on his breath so strong that Kurt’s eyes almost watered. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Kurt said, wishing his voice didn’t shake so much. “My dad is just in the bathroom, so if you don’t want any trouble, I’d leave right now.” 

“Your dad isn’t in the bathroom. He’s out dealing with those slashed tires over at Carmel High,” Puck said, shifting forward, “Cute that you tried though.” 

“What do you want, Puckerman?” Kurt said, straightening his shoulders. 

“Same thing Karofsky and Evans are getting.” Puck’s grin grew even wider, “Same deal, and I’ll even throw in a box of wine coolers.” 

“What deal?” Kurt blinked, suddenly completely off balance again, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Discretion. I dig it.” Puckerman nodded, and looked over his shoulder. “You sure you wanna do this business on the doorstep? That’s not very discrete.” 

“I’m not inviting you into my house.” Kurt snapped, and Puck’s eyes flashed. “What do you mean?” 

“I put it together. I noticed Evans watching you a lot more, but that’s nothing, right? But then he started slipping out of class when Hudson locked you in stuff. So one day I followed him. Saw him letting you out of the janitors closet, and then I remembered he had that whole thing about you being crushed to death in the garbage. So we’re gonna hold that thought.” 

“Then, Karofsky suddenly stops shoving you around so much. Starts saying Gay instead of the other word- Gotta ask, is that one of the rules? Cause if it is, I’ll do my best, but I’ve never been one to watch what I’m saying- anyway, then he straight up slushies Hudson to distract him from beating you up in the corridor, and spends a week picking a fight with Hudson every time he so much as breaths in your direction. Hudson’s dumb, but I’m not. I got the pattern.” 

Kurt watched as Puck’s eyes slowly narrowed in focus, but he was doing everything he could to stay very quiet and very still.

“So, obviously, you’ve got some kind of deal going on, right? They look out for you in exchange for something. But then I had to figure, what do you have to offer. The Evans thing threw me at first. I thought, oh, you’ve got to be paying him off. Your dad owns an awesome mechanics shop, you must be secretly loaded. But Karofsky’s family isn’t exactly poor. So, it’s gotta be something else. I started doing my James Bond thing, following and watching, and I noticed... You go to Sam’s new place a lot. And they come here a lot when your dad is out. And you’ve got something that a lotta guys don’t have at this school. And it’s smart cause you kind of win on both sides of the deal. So... I want the same deal.” 

Kurt swallowed heavily, trying to understand what that logical leap that Puckerman was making was. “I can’t negotiate until I know what the deal is.” 

“I look out for you, stop the bullying where I can, bring wine coolers which is a bonus I have not seen coming from either of those two,” Puck shook the package lightly, “And in exchange-”

Time slowed to a stop, as Puck began to lean forward in a move that seemed well practiced but made clumsy by alcohol. At first, Kurt could only see it as an incoming headbutt, but Puck’s face was angled too strangely for that. It was only as Puck’s lips touched his that Kurt realized what was actually happening, and with that piece of information, what Puck thought the deal was.

“No!” Kurt jerked back, and surprisingly, Puck didn’t follow, just looking at Kurt with confused eyes.

“No?” Puck blinked and looked down at himself, “Is there a ‘because’ there?” 

“Because that’s not the deal I have with either of them,” Kurt said, taking another step back. 

“Oh.” Puck frowned, obviously still confused, “What is the deal?” 

“There is no deal.” Kurt said, and then paused as his mind flashed to the blackmail briefly, before he recovered, “So, there’s no deal for you to get involved with.” 

“Oh.” Puck nodded slowly, and then jingled the wine coolers with a small grin, stepping closer yet again, “Wanna make a new deal?” 

“What?” Kurt felt his jaw drop, “Why? I... What?”

“Dude, I’m a dude with needs. No strings sex is pretty cool especially if I can get that in whilst I’m seeing a other people too. I mean it’s not like you’d be able to tell anyone, and since I thought I worked this out, I’ve been thinking about dude on dude stuff a lot more than usual-” 

“You are drunk,” Kurt ground out, “And I’m not having sex in exchange for my physical safety.” 

Puck’s frown darkened, and he stepped through the door properly. “Don’t make this sound shitty, I’m offering you the full attention of the Puckersaurus, and you’re gay. This is a total win for you.”

Kurt had a biting remark on the tip of his tongue, but he suddenly realized the situation he was in. Puck was in the house now, and he was drunk. “Puck, let me be honest. It’s clear you don’t have a problem with David and Sam looking out for me, or me being... gay. So I’ll tell you why. We’re just friends.” 

Puck snorted, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, right.” 

“I’m serious. We hang out and play Mario Kart. I visit them at Sam’s house and read stories to his little brother and sister. He sang me a song for my birthday.” Kurt tried to convince him, but Puck seemed unconvinced. “I’ll call them over here, right now. They’ll come and tell you everything.” 

“Do it, but don’t tell them what you just told me. If their stories match up when they get here, then I’ll believe you.” Puck put the wine coolers on the small table next to the door, and leaned against the wall folding his arms. Kurt shakily pulled out his phone, and dialed Sam quickly, praying he picked up.

_ “Kurt?” _ Sam’s voice sounded concerned over the phone.

“Hi, yes.” Kurt swallowed his nerves, and smiled positively at Puck. “I’m at home, and I have a visitor. My dad’s out, so it’d be great if you and Dave could come over?”

_ “Who’s visiting?” _ Sam asked, confusion obvious in his voice,  _ “You said you didn’t hang out with your dad’s family much.” _

“Oh, just someone from school.” Kurt tried to sound casual, but his voice rose a couple of octaves. Puck shot him a look, and he struggled to take a breath.  


_ “Someone... are you okay?”  _ Sam was obviously more alert now, and Kurt had to swallow another flash of panic.  


“Nope! So, if you can hurry that’d be great.” Kurt glanced at Puck and quickly added, “Okay, bye!” before putting the phone down.

“So, you call Karofsky ‘Dave’,” Puck asked after a moment, pulling out one of the wine coolers and popping the top. 

“I usually call him David, but I’m a little nervous right now.” Kurt said, without thinking, and then looked away as Puck’s eyes narrowed.

“You think I’m gonna like... murder you in your house?” Puck asked, and Kurt flinched.

“Greater hate crimes have been committed.”

“Whoa, where’s this hate crime bullshit coming from.” Puck held up his hands, “I’ve never done anything hate-crime-y to you.” 

“You bully me for being gay every day,” Kurt pointed out, and Puck looked at him as if this was a whole new concept.

“I bully you because you’re a dork. A hot dork, but a dork.”

Kurt blinked, and then gestured to the couches. “Shall we sit and wait, because the standing makes me feel like we’re just waiting for you to lunge at me.” 

“Sure.” Puck moved and sat on the sofa, and Kurt sat in his dad’s chair carefully. A solid 20 minutes of silence passed, as Puck finished one of the wine coolers and started on another, tapping casually on the armchair. Kurt almost suggested putting on some music, but the idea of trying to choose a song to undercut the insanity of this moment was a step too far.  


The front door exploded open. Kurt was on his feet in a second, and Puck wasn’t far behind him as Sam and Dave burst into the room, and before anyone had a chance to speak, Sam was throwing himself over the couch, and tackling Puck to the ground, the two of them landing heavily on the coffee table, which collapsed under the weight.  Kurt let out a small shout of panic, and David quickly rounded the sofa, practically lifting Kurt up and shoving him into the bathroom. “Lock the door, don’t come out until we tell you.” 

“It’s- “ Kurt blinked as David turned away, and he caught sight of Sam pulling Puck to his feet and punching him in the jaw with an audible thunk. Dave was moving to grab him from behind, and Kurt tried to speak again, but they clearly couldn’t hear him, so he did the only thing he could think of.

As he let out a scream, one of the neighbors dogs immediately started barking in their yard, and the three brawling teenagers in the living room froze on the spot, turning to look at him. Kurt held the scream for a moment, before he stepped out of the bathroom and quickly moved to close the front door. 

“Stop it!” He snapped as soon as the lock clicked into place. “Stop beating each other up in my living room!”

“I didn’t beat anyone up, I got tackled,” Puck snapped, jerking out of David’s grip. “I was just sat here, drinking wine coolers.” 

“Yeah, cause you, wine coolers and good decisions are the perfect throuple,” Sam growled, “What the fuck are you doing here, Puckerman.”

“I came to get the anti-bullying oral,” Puck gestured vaguely towards Kurt, “I mean, I assume just oral for you Evans, Karofsky’s clearly been getting the better deal.” 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean,” David started to move towards Puck, who backed away so that neither was behind him. 

“I worked out that Hummel’s giving it up to you guys, so that you'd stop him getting bullied.” 

The room froze, and Kurt felt his cheeks burn as David turned to look at him with wide eyes. “I am not. You know I’m not.” He hissed, and David almost grinned before he remembered the situation.

“You’re wrong,” Sam’s voice was low and dangerous. “We’re Kurt’s friends. And if you ever try anything here again-” 

“What did I apparently try?” Puck snorted, “I just came to see a guy, and tried to make a deal. Worse thing I did was kiss him.” 

“Oh, you definitely don’t want to bring that up,” David said, putting out a hand to stop Sam from moving forward. “Trust me.” 

“So why are the three of you hanging out then?” Puck asked, narrowing his eyes. “What’ve you three even got in common.”

The room turned quiet again, and Kurt’s blood ran cold, before he snapped, “We don’t have to tell you anything. You’re the one who’d have to explain why you showed up at the gay kids house for the ‘dude on dude stuff.’” 

“Yeah right, who’d believe that.” Puck snorted, “It’d be your word against mine, and nobody crosses the Puckmeister.” He paused and examined them all slowly, before he moved to push past. “Whatever, this is way too much drama. I came to rock your world. It’s your loss.” 

And then Puck was out in the evening again. Kurt watched him walk away, and then closed the door before he sunk down next to it. Sam and David moved to help him onto the couch, but that just forced Kurt to look at the broken coffee table. 

“Well, my dad is going to be furious,” Kurt said after a moment, and then he paused and tilted his head, “I wonder if I can spin it into being allowed to redecorate.” 

It took a moment for it to sink in and then they were all snickering, Sam and Dave collapsing onto the couch with him and Sam wrapping an arm around him. “We’ll clean it up in a minute,” Dave assured, quietly.

“And then we can start on the more important matter.” Sam said, shooting Dave a wicked grin. “No straight guy offers to have sex with a guy as part of a trade.” 

Kurt glanced over at Dave who was blushing bright red, and let out a snort of laughter. The other two followed quickly after.

* * *

Kurt had expected to be the one to take the brunt of Puck’s revenge. He came to school the next morning in layers, and with two different changes of clothes in his bag, ready to take whatever punishment was coming for turning Puck down and letting Sam beat him up. 

The gossip in the hallways was almost visible, like a heat mirage. Nobody was looking at him, but they were all talking about something in hushed whispers as he passed. He put his change of clothes in his locker, and was just about to leave for his class when there was a shout of fear and a crash of metal from the next hallway across. Curiosity overpowered his survival instinct, and Kurt moved to check out the situation. 

The first thing he saw was the crowd that had formed, but he was lucky as they all seemed to be trying to move away from the center. There was another metallic sounding crash that finally got Kurt the chance to see what was going on, and he froze as he witnessed David kicking at the locker ahead of him. He was clearly furious, as he spun away from where Kurt assumed his locker was and punched a different one. 

As Puckerman approached, from the opposite side, Kurt was sure this was somehow his retribution. That he had done something to upset David, but he didn’t approach David himself. Instead he approached David’s locker, and tugged something off, holding it in his hand with an inscrutable look for a moment, before he spoke in a menacing voice that quietly carried over the entire silence.

“Who the fuck did this?” 

Everyone nearby flinched, and whilst it was clear that they wanted to run, nobody moved under the threat. David had stopped striking the metal, and was now just standing with his head resting on his arms. It took a moment, before a hand went up in the crowd. Everyone turned to look at Brittany Pierce, but she didn’t seem scared.

“I showed Mrs. Karofsky to Davey’s locker,” she said, stepping forward. “She said she needed to let him know something.” 

The whispers started again as David’s shoulders began to shake a little. Puck silenced them with a look, and then his eyes met Kurt’s. He nodded towards Karofsky, a pointed look on his face, and Kurt could feel the attention turn to him, as the crowd completely parted, and he finally got a look at Karofsky’s locker. Someone had written on it in thick black marker, no attempt at subtlety.

_ Choose this, or never come home. Leviticus 18:22. _

Kurt found himself moving forward on instinct, his hand reaching up to cover his mouth as Puck held out a pamphlet to him. Kurt didn’t take in much of the information. He knew what it was. A Conversion camp. 

“David-” He said softly, and David whirled around, his eyes red and cheeks wet, raising his fist. Before Kurt had even had a chance to flinch, Puckerman was between them, and grabbed Karofsky’s wrist.

“Come on,” He grunted, and yanked Karofsky towards the nearest room, where the sewing club met. When Kurt didn’t move, Puck gave him another sharp look, and snapped, “I said, come on, Hummel!”

The three of them parted the crowd and managed to get Karofsky into the room quickly, but Kurt could only watch heartbroken as Karofsky started to pace. 

“Look, this is your deal dude, not mine.” Puckerman muttered in Kurt’s ear, but it didn’t feel aggressive, more concerned. “What do we do.” 

“We... give him a moment.” Kurt said softly back. “Close the blinds.” 

Puck nodded and quickly moved to close the blinds on the doors, pulling out a master key and locking them too. David continued to walk back and forth before he suddenly let out a noise like a wounded animal and kicked over a chair. Kurt flinched, but Puck moved forward holding his hands up carefully.

“Dude, I’m sorry,” Puck said softly, and then thought for a moment, “That’s why you’re always at Evans house. You live with him, right?” 

David nodded jerkily, and Puck spoke again. 

“So, you know you’ve got a home. No way is Evans gonna kick you out. And even if they get like... super homeless again, you can move in with me and Sarah dude. Or-” He glanced pointedly at Kurt.

“Or me. You’re not alone. You have people.” Kurt took half a step forward, and David flinched before Puck suddenly swooped in and wrapped his arms around him. David let out another sob, and pounded on Puck’s chest, but the other teen stood firm and held him tight, until David was barely upright, just sobbing into Puck’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay, dude. It’s gonna be okay.” Puck’s voice was gruff too, and Kurt could almost see tears in his eyes. Kurt stood helplessly nearby, until David was able to pull himself together and carry his own weight again. 

“Why?” David asked, wiping his face with the back of his jacket.

“Cause no-one deserves that bullshit,” Puck snarled a little, “You’re Karofsky dude. Gay, Straight, or Bi. Getting tortured to try and change yourself is just... it's bullshit.” 

“I...” Kurt spoke quietly, trying not to wince then the attention was back on him, “I’m sorry, David. I wish I could’ve done more.” 

“It isn’t on you either, Hummel,” Puck rolled his eyes, “Don’t be such a drama queen. The only one in the wrong here is Mrs. Karofsky. You didn’t make Dave gay.  _ I  _ probably made Dave gay.” 

“You can’t make people gay.” Kurt replied frustratedly on instinct, and then paused, “What?”

“Yeah. When we were younger, playing spin the bottle, that was totally it, right?” Puck winked at David, who blushed bright red and looked mortified. “Yup! That’s what you missed out on Hummel.” 

“Oh, no. However will I survive.” Kurt said in the most deadpan tone he could muster. “Truly, I have lost all hope of being happy again.” 

“Wait!” Puck snapped his fingers, and gestured between them, “I got it!”

“We’re not dating. Before you even start on that.” Kurt rolled his eyes.

“What? No. That thing at your house. You’re a gay club.” Puck laughed, but it sounded more incredulous than mean spirited. “I totally had my suspicions about Evans. Dude looks like he takes a lot of blows to the lips, if you get what I mean.” 

It took Kurt half a moment, but then he suddenly visualised, in spectacular form, what Puck meant, and he swallowed heavily trying to shake that thought. “I- You think about Sam like that often?” 

“Not my fault,” Puck shrugged casually. “Same with you really-”

“Okay, you can keep any of those thoughts to yourself,” Kurt pointed accusingly, and glanced to Karofsky who still looked embarrassed, but had stopped crying and kicking stuff. “I’m not confirming or denying anything, but I think you need some self reflection on your sexuality before you start hurling rocks.” 

“Oh, Puckersaurus is an equal opportunity lover,” Puck snorted, gesturing at himself. “It’s just the opportunities for stealthy dude encounters in Lima are tragic. It’s Scadals or driving up to that gay hogwarts school. So why didn’t I get an invite to the gay club?”

“Even if I had started a secret society for LGBT people at my house, why would I ever think to invite you?” Kurt tried to pull back on the scathing tone, but he could hear how catty he sounded to his own ears.

“Well, I assumed you had great gaydar. I mean, you found those two,” Puck gestured to David.

“I clearly don’t have any kind of gay radar,” Kurt muttered, and then felt his stomach sink as he remembered last year. “I think you and Abrams made that plenty clear to Hudson.” 

The mood in the room got colder, and David stepped closer to Kurt, his eyes still raw from crying but clearly taking his side if this turned into a bigger confrontation. But it never erupted. Instead, Puck looked down, and there was a flash of genuine shame.

“Look, we’re not friends, but I should have apologized dude,” He muttered, running a hand through his mohawk, “But how do you even apologize for something like that? I don’t even know what happened, it was a dumb joke. All I said was that Finn was clearly a freak magnet, cause of you and Berry. And he just flew off the handle. I was the one to drag him away from you.” 

“I was a little too dazed to remember,” Kurt muttered, reaching up to touch his face, the memory of the pain flaring back. “It is what it is. I thought... Well, I think that should be proof enough that I can’t sense when people are secretly attracted to men. I wasn’t even aware David was until-” He paused and sighed, “We’re getting off track. David, are you okay?”

“I guess...” David said softly, his eyes darting to the pamphlet that had been scattered to the floor during his hug with Puck. “I guess there was some part of me that just thought they’d want me back some day.” 

“Fuck them,” Puck scoffed, and reached across to not-too-gently punch David’s arm. “Parents suck. You’ve got us now, and we’re way cooler.” He paused and glanced at Kurt briefly, “Well, me and Evans at least.” 

“Kurt’s awesome,” David said absently, reaching out to pat Kurt on the back. “Kurt’s my bro. And now... that everyone knows I’m gay, everyone can know that too.” 

“Speaking of that-” Puck said, pulling out a beat up old phone, “When’s the next meeting for gay club? I'll check my calendar” 

“We don’t have a gay club, and even if we did-” Kurt could hear his voice rising, and he paused to pull it under control. He wasn’t inviting Puckerman into his house again, not when he had already had to pay for a new coffee table out of his own money, and Dwight and Mary weren’t going to allow Sam to break the rules quite as easily as they had for Dave.

But thinking of Dave, Kurt couldn’t help but see a spark of... if not hope, then interest? Or just a desire to have friends. And after today, Kurt couldn’t fault him for that, or try and ruin it. 

“If we did, we don’t have a location that could accommodate everyone. You can understand my reticence to allow you into my home again, and the Evans house is already full.”

“I mean, I don’t get your reticence, since I have no clue what that word means, but I get the idea,” Puck shrugged, “no skin off my back.” 

“However,” Kurt stepped in before Puck could withdraw any further, “If you’re serious about being an ally to David, perhaps the three of you could...spend some time somewhere else? Breakstix or... wherever jocks hangout when they’re not tormenting the lower lifeforms. If people question why you’re all hanging out, then you’re just supporting your teammate, who is a really good... I’m going to guess, Blocker? Shield? I don’t know football.” 

“And how would that explain why you were there?” Dave asked, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion. 

“I... wouldn’t be.” Kurt said, shrugging slightly. “You deserve to have good friends, David. And the best way to achieve that might be to... separate your friend groups into the people you can be seen with in public, and the people who you visit more privately.” 

“No.” Dave shook his head, and his eyes shot to Puckerman. “If we’re hanging out, Kurt is going to be there.” 

“I didn’t say he couldn’t be,” Puck shrugged, looking lost, “I don’t remember saying that at all.” 

“David, you don’t have to-” 

“You’re my friend, Kurt.” David reached across Kurt and pulled him into a tighter side hug. “That’s important.” 

“Gay.” Puckerman coughed loudly, and smirked when Kurt turned to glare at him. “What? Allergies to soppy shit.” 

“You’re not half as charming as you think you are,” Kurt grumbled, and then sighed, turning to Dave and offering him a small smile, “I’ll speak with the janitor about getting your locker cleaned. I have the chemicals needed in the Navigator.” 

“I’ll walk you to class.” Puck added, nodding to David. “Hummel can text Evans and catch him up.” 

David nodded and the three of them stepped out into the hallway. Nobody dared to look at them, as Puck glared at anyone who so much as looked in David’s direction, and for a moment Kurt thought it all might be okay.” 

“Hey, Fag-ofsky! I got you a going away present!”

Kurt flinched and turned to look in horror as Hudson rushed the last few steps to catch up, and as David turned to snap a retort, Fin unloaded a bright pink slushy right in his face. The moment froze, as David flinched at the cold, and began to splutter as the chunks of ice splattered the back of his throat. Hudson was letting a loud cruel laugh, and Abrams was behind him with a vicious smirk, and Sam stood by and did nothing. 

Kurt could see the way Puck’s hands gripped Dave’s shoulders as he tried to surge forward, rage and pain in every movement as the pink liquid dripped down his Letterman jacket, and it struck Kurt as entirely unfair. This was something that happened to Kurt, not to his friends. Not when they were hurting so badly. His dad had always said that Kurt had strong opinions and stood up for himself, but he had lost that some time in the last year or so. 

But he could stand up for someone else, and his father’s lessons weren’t all moralistic.

Before anyone could react, he had stepped forward, past David and Puck, and past the outstretched slushy cup, as his arm pulled back and then shot forward with Kurt’s entire body weight behind it. There was a thunk, and Kurt was vaguely aware of the slushy cup falling to the ground as he pulled himself back into the brawling stance his father had taught him. 

Hudson was sat on his ass on the ground, his hand covering his face as he looked up at Kurt like he was a stranger. A gasp of surprise echoed from one of the people watching, as Finn pulled back his hand to reveal a palm full of blood. 

“You... You hit me-” Hudson said, his voice quiet shock as Kurt vibrated in rage.

“You’re a monster, Finn Hudson. Your father would have been ashamed of you.” Kurt spat, and Hudson flinched back again, his eyes somehow getting even wider. Kurt turned, ready to leave the situation with as much dignity as he had just been able to claw back. 

And then suddenly his feet were leaving the floor, before he hit the ground with a painful thud. It couldn’t have been Hudson, the time was too short, and the angle was wrong for Puck to have changed sides already, so for a brief, horrifying moment, Kurt was sure he knew who it was. He was sure he knew that Sam had taken Hudson’s side despite everything, that their friendship had been exactly what Kurt had known all along, the result of blackmail. 

But as he was turned over, it wasn’t blonde hair, but dark brown, and Kurt had a moment to think,  _ Abrams,  _ before he got punched in the face. The world exploded into bright pain for a moment, and then another hit came. He tried to cover his face, as the blows kept coming, kicking out with his feet and trying to pull away, until someone bodily ripped Abrams off Kurt. Kurt scrambled away, and when he blinked away the daze, there was a brawl going on in the center of the hallway. Hudson, Puckerman, Abrams and Dave were throwing punches every which way, and-

Sam was nowhere to be found. 

The sound of a whistle halted the proceedings, and Kurt scrambled away as Coach Tanaka appeared from beyond the crowd that had formed. He shot out of the building, like it was made of gasoline and he was a lit match, until he was safely inside the Navigator.

It took him a solid twenty minutes to stop shaking, but when he looked in the mirror and saw the mass of bruises and scrapes on his face, he started again. 

His dad was going to be pissed. 

* * *

There was no world in which Kurt could explain to his dad why he had left school before the first class had even started, or even explain why he looked like he had tried to bring down a wall using his face. His father had threatened to call the Evans house, or to call the school, but Kurt had begged him not to and to just give him the appropriate punishment.

He would have thought after being alone for nearly a year, grounding would be easier. But with his phone and laptop upstairs out of Kurt’s grasp, he felt lonely. His dad had come down at 9, and offered Kurt the chance to tell him the truth, but when he refused again, he informed Kurt that the punishment would continue for the rest of the week, and that Burt would drive him to and from school. 

So, Kurt laid in the darkness of his room, staring at the ceiling and trying to pretend that the pain killers were going to kick in any moment. His dad had long since gone to sleep, and Kurt was alone with his thoughts. 

A sharp tap at his bedroom window drew his attention, and he almost screamed when he looked up to find a human figure crouched down looking back at him. He reached for the light quickly, ready to run if the figure made any aggressive movements, but when he flicked on the light, the reality of the situation was somehow worse. 

Noah Puckerman was glaring in at him, wincing from the sudden light change. He looked obviously at the lock, and Kurt swallowed heavily before shaking his head in a clear sign of No. Puck rolled his eyes dramatically, and then held up what looked to be a set of metallic tools and mimed unlocking the window before pointing at Kurt again.

The message was clear, either Kurt let him in, or he let himself in. Kurt quickly climbed out of the bed, cursing his pajamas as they shimmered softly in the light, and moved to unlock the window on his side and push it open a little. “If you do anything, my dad is upstairs.” He said, taking a step back.

“Relax Hummel,” Puck muttered, and in one smooth move, he slipped in through the window. “Karofsky was practically having an aneurysm when you weren’t replying.” He added, before his feet landed on the back of Kurt’s couch, and he almost silently hopped down to the ground. “You okay?”

“Am I-” Kurt blinked, “Why do you, of all people, care?” 

“What do you mean, me of all people?” Puck frowned, pulling back, “What’s wrong with me?” 

“You’ve spent as long as I’ve known you terrorizing me!” Kurt hissed, “You make my life a living hell!” 

“So do Evans and Karofsky,” Puck gestured around the room, “and it seems like they get special access to Hummel’s magical princess castle.” 

“If you’re here to be an asshole, the window is over there,” Kurt snapped, and Puck rolled his eyes again before moving past Kurt and dropping onto the bed casually. “What’re you doing?” 

“Getting to know you. Cause, like, I never thought you’d be the kind of guy to punch Hudson in the face. And I think the kind of guy who could do something badass like that, is the kinda guy I want to know.” Puck shrugged, “Even if he goes to bed in silk pajamas.” 

“First of all, it’s satin.” Kurt muttered, “and if you’re here for revenge for Hudson-” 

“I’m definitely not here for that.” Puckerman snorted, and then shuffled a little, “You... uh... you know about the Quinn stuff last year.” 

“She got pregnant, and then lost the baby.” Kurt said, and didn’t point out the rest of the gossip. 

“Yeah, let’s go with lost,” Puck muttered, narrowing his eyes as he looked at his knee. “Russel’s a hell of a guy. One rule for his family, one rule for the world. Anyway, it was my baby, and I know that isn’t a surprise cause you’re definitely the kind of guy who is always on Jacob’s blog. Finn never really thought it was his kid, cause Abrams pointed out that how he thought it was made was bullshit. Well, when he found out I had slept with his girlfriend, I got my own beat down. But we fixed it.”

“Why?” 

“Why what?” Puck frowned, “Why did I sleep with Quinn?” 

“Of course not, she’s gorgeous,” Kurt rolled his eyes, “Why did you fix it? Why did you go back?” 

“Why were you into him?” Puck shot back, and Kurt found himself speechless at the complete exhaustion in Puck’s tone. Kurt recognized something in Puck's features, something painful and wanting, and he looked away before he could get drawn in. “There’s something there. When we were kids, he was kind and he had that whole leadership potential thing. And he grew up to look like that too, but then-” Puck shrugged, “He just got mean. Probably because the closest thing he has to a male role model is Tanaka, who is just the worst, but like... I don’t know.”

The silence held in the air for a long few moments, and Kurt let out a soft sigh. “I just had a crush. I wasn’t hurting anyone. I didn’t have a creepy shrine, or demand his attention. I was just lonely, and I thought he was being nice to me. And I ended up terrified for my life.” 

“All I said, was that if Quinn was off the table now, he could probably have his pick of you and Berry.” Puck said softly, “It wasn’t a big deal. Then we... We were throwing you in the garbage, and he started lifting you up, and you said-” 

“ _Finn, please, this is a-_ ” Kurt supplied and looked away, “It was a restored Prada coat, in case you were wondering.” 

“Abrams thought it was funny. He’d always been needling him about the fact that you and Berry call him ‘Finn’, like Quinn does.” Puck shuddered, “I couldn’t believe the shit he started shouting, and then when he shoving you, and punching you, I dragged him away as quickly as I could-” 

“It didn’t change anything really,” Kurt said softly, sitting on the other end of the pajamas. “It was dumb to think that anyone could like someone like me.” 

“Evans likes you,” Puck pointed out quietly, and Kurt rolled his eyes.

“If you had said David, I might have agreed that we’re friends.” Kurt said, his words suddenly turning venomous as he continued, “Evans stood there and did nothing.”

“You-” Puck almost laughed, and turned away a little, “Yeah, sure. You’re definitely not the smart one.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing,” Puck sighed, “Look, I think it’s pretty clear I’ve picked a side. And through sheer happenstance, the side I picked also includes you. So... can we try and be chill with each other, for Karofsky’s sake?”

“I was never not ‘chill’ with you.” Kurt muttered, narrowing his eyes, “but since I’m apparently the best at forgiving people who don’t deserve to be forgiven, I’ll say yes.” 

“Awesome,” Puck nodded and stood up from the bed. “Do you have any lube?” 

Kurt’s jaw dropped, and he immediately scooted away, “What?”

“Yeah, I’m running low and I didn’t get chance to go to the store.” Puck shrugged, “We’re bros now, we can share supplies.” 

“I...” Kurt clenched his eyes shut, “It’s going to be quicker and less painful to just tell you isn’t it?” 

“Sure is,” Puck’s smirk was evident from his tone alone. Kurt sighed, and opened his eyes before reaching under his bed and pulling out a small silver shoebox. He dropped it on the bed and then looked away as far as he could as Puck opened it, and grabbed something. Kurt flinched as there was the sound of plastic opening, and then a sniff.

“Pina Colada? Nice.” 

The bottle snapped closed, and when Kurt dared to look, Puck was halfway to the window. Kurt flung the box under his bed, and Puck paused at the couch.

“Hey... you throw a good punch, but... wait in your car for us, alright? Karofsky’s brain will literally explode if you get roughed up without us there.” 

Before Kurt could answer, Puck was climbing out of the window, as though he had done so a hundred times before, and Kurt was left alone in his room.

* * *

Of course Kurt couldn’t wait in his car the next morning, because his dad drove him there bright and early and then drove off to open the garage. So, Kurt was forced to enter the school and wait by his locker, doing his best to ignore the gossipy whispers as people passed, whilst watching for Abrams and Hudson like a hawk. 

When the crowd suddenly parted, Kurt was sure it was going to be them. What he didn’t expect to see was David rushing towards him at a pace, Puckerman a little further back but watching like a hawk. 

“Told you to wait with your car,” David snapped as he finally got close enough. 

“I currently do not have a car.” Kurt said, trying not to stick his nose up. “Since I won’t tell my dad what happened yesterday, I clearly cannot be trusted.”

“That sucks, it’s a dope car.” Puck said, coming to a stop behind Dave. “Alright, what classes have you got?” 

“Why does that matter?” Kurt asked, folding his arms.

Puck rolled his eyes like Kurt had asked a ridiculous question, “Cause we’re gonna be your bodyguards, until Hudson’s had time to cool down.”

“I don’t need a bodyguard-” Kurt started, and Dave’s eyes immediately narrowed, “but I suppose if it’ll make David feel better-” He opened his locker and handed over his schedule. Dave and Puck both leaned over it and began muttering to each other in hushed tones, before they handed it back to him.

“Karofsky says you’re like a secret ninja,” Puck said, and gently prompted them into moving. 

“Well, David is kind.” Kurt rolled his eyes, “I’m not a box, I have more than four sides.” 

“That’s...real bad math.” Puck frowned, as he mimed a cube in the air. “You’re talking at least six sides before you even get into the ‘inside-outside’ debate.” 

Kurt opened his mouth to argue, but as they moved, he noticed that Dave was having some issues. Every so often he would wince, and he was walking strangely. “Why are you limping?” Kurt asked curiously, and Dave stopped dead, turning bright red. “And why are you so embarrassed about limping?” 

“Nothing!” Dave snapped, and began walking quicker again, immediately adding, “What happened to your face? Puck said it was real messed up last night.” 

“I have my secrets,” Kurt said casually, picking up on the desire not to speak about it.

“Makeup,” Puck muttered, and Kurt shot him a quick look, “What? Makes total sense. You’re way too vain to carry your war scars.” 

“I’d hardly call bruises War Scars.” Kurt rolled his eyes. “Is that why you’re limping, David? The fight?”

“I... need the bathroom.” Dave snapped, and quickly ducked into the toilet. Puck was smirking again, and Kurt needed to make him stop.

“Are you planning on returning what you borrowed, or not?” He snapped, but Puck didn’t seem the slightest bit embarrassed.

“A lot of it got used. It’s fine, I’ll pay you back.” 

“You had it for one night, how much-” Kurt held up a hand to stop himself from speaking, “I don’t need to know. Fine.” 

Puck shrugged, leaning in and talking very quietly, “I mean, you don’t need to know, but do you want to know?” 

“You disgust me, Puckerman.” 

“That’s not a no.” Puck smirked again, and Kurt rolled his eyes. 

“You know, I used to be a lot more scared of you.” 

Puck’s manner suddenly changed, and Kurt flinched as the warmth that he had been ignorant of suddenly vanished and the smile turned from roguish to cruel, for just a second. And then he was grinning, and he bumped Kurt’s shoulder lightly. “I’m still a badass, don’t forget it.” 

Kurt couldn’t find the words to respond, his heart hammering in his chest as he suddenly remembered that Puck was still dangerous. He felt a little unstable, but tried to recover as David stepped out of the bathroom his posture exaggeratedly normal. 

“Is...” Kurt took a moment, and considered how to phrase it. “Is your housemate okay? I haven’t seen them.” 

“He was when I last saw him,” David muttered, his face turning stormy for a moment, “We had an argument, and then I left for the night. I stayed at Puck’s.” 

Kurt nodded in understanding, and then almost tripped over his own feet as a bolt of realization struck him. “You were at Puckerman’s, last night. With Puckerman.” 

Puck’s smirk grew, and he threw an arm around Kurt to slap David on the back, almost sandwiching Kurt between them. “Yeah he was.” 

Kurt could see Karofsky’s face turning redder, and there was no denying the visions of what had happened from swarming his brain. “I see.” He managed to choke out, and then stayed very, very quiet as they continued to walk him to his lesson.

* * *

“Mr. Hummel, can you please step outside?” 

Kurt glanced up from his french book, and his pulse began to pound in his chest as his senses zeroed in on Mrs. Tanaka in the doorway. People were turning to look at him, but he couldn’t make himself stand up, or unclench his fist on the pen in his hand. Mr. Shuester looked entirely unimpressed, sipping from his coffee that likely had more in common with Ireland than Spain. 

“Mr. Hummel?” Mrs. Tanaka said, shifting in the doorway nervously, her eyes wide and doe like. “Your father is in the principal's office.” 

The air rushed back into his lungs, and the pen clattered to the desk as he un-tensed. If his dad was here, then it wasn’t another heart attack. He was vaguely aware of the ooh-ing as he stumbled to his feet as quickly as possible, the hyenas masquerading as students excited to see someone get into trouble, but Kurt would much rather he was expelled than anything else.

He traveled in silence, not getting too close to Mrs. Tanaka. She looked entirely too nervous about the entire situation, but Kurt was happy to ignore that, until she didn’t turn towards the principal's office, and instead opened the door to the sewing room, where a bunch of chairs were circled up, and mostly full.

“Ah, Mr. Hummel!” Principal Figgins stood up and gestured to an open seat next to Kurt’s dad, “Please, sit down.” 

“I-'' Kurt glanced over the other chairs and he flinched visibly. Finn Hudson’s nose was still swollen, and the woman next to him looked furious. Abrams was sitting in another seat, the woman and man flanking him looking frustrated to be here. David and Puck sat in another pair of chairs, as far from Hudson and Abrams as possible. There was a woman next to Puck who looked frazzled and harassed, and a man next to Dave who was not making eyecontact with anyone, least of all David. And then in the last four seats were Burt, Sam, Dwight and Mary. “Is- I don’t understand.” 

“All will be explained in time,” Figgins announced, and Kurt sat next to his dad, who had his cap pulled as tightly as possible over his eyes and was glaring at the world. “We have had quite a busy morning! Mr. and Mrs. Tanaka are here as witnesses, so we can get this whole situation sorted out.” 

Kurt glanced over at where Coach Tanaka was leaning against the rolling whiteboard, glaring at Kurt like he was scum. Kurt quickly swallowed and looked away.

“Now! Mr Tanaka had informed me that the fight that occurred in the hallways yesterday had been dealt with, but I was very upset when somebody came into my office this morning to lodge a complaint. A student no less.” Mr. Figgens sat calmly and poised as though he was Poirot or Columbo wrapping up a great mystery. “The evidence received was quite indisputable in fact, that the fight was not harmless tom foolery, but a homophobic assault. This school is not a place of hatred, it is a place of learning!” 

“Someone beat up the gay kid?” The man next to David asked, pointing at Kurt, and Kurt could feel his dad bristle.

“No. Someone slushied the gay kid,  _ Paul _ .” Puck muttered and gestured to David. The man, who had to be Paul Karofsky, Kurt realised, blinked and looked back at David with clear confusion.

“Yes, it seems that Mr. Hudson attacked Mr. Karofsky with an iced drink, whilst referring to him by a homophobic name.” Figgins continued, “A brawl erupted from that, and was stopped by Mr. Tanaka.” 

“You took a swing at him?” Paul asked David with a disappointed look, and David retreated further in on himself. “David, what would your mother-” 

“He didn’t.” Kurt said, his voice sharp. “I did.” 

Everyone turned to look at Kurt at that, those who weren’t there obviously shocked and disbelieving, except for Hudson who looked away humiliated. 

“Then Abrams tackled Kurt, and we dragged him off Kurt, and then it was just a brawl,” Puck gestured to each person in turn. “Kurt got out of there before Hudson could try to kill him. Y’know, again.” 

“Wait, what do you mean again?” the woman next to Finn, Carole if Kurt remembered from the brief interactions at the PTA, asked.

“Last year, whilst throwing me in the dumpster, Finn got angry at me because someone made a joke that I was interested in him.” Kurt said as calmly as he could, pointedly not looking at his dad, of Hudson, or really much of anyone. “He shoved me to the ground, and hit me a few times before Puckerman dragged him away.” 

Carole turned to look at Hudson who was glaring at Kurt too now, his fingers tight around the plastic of the chair seat. 

“This is all anecdotal evidence,” Figgins announced loudly, “I would like to return to this morning, when a student brought me a recording.” 

Kurt’s spine cried out in pain from how quickly he straightened up. There was no way anyone had gotten ahold of the recording he had forced Sam to make. Unless that had been what Puck was really doing when he snuck in, but he didn’t even know about it. 

Figgins retrieved what looked like an old voice recorder and clicked the button, and the room was suddenly full of the sound of glasses clinking against one another. 

_ “So, why did you do that to Karofsky?” _ Sam’s voice could be heard asking, and Kurt’s eyes darted to him. The blonde was staring dead ahead, as though he wasn’t even present in this moment. 

_ “You mean Fag-ofsky?” _ Hudson could be heard laughing, and Kurt saw the way that Paul’s jaw tightened in the room, _ “It’s just gross, dude. I don't want to see them prancing around the school. It’s like Coach says. Men should be men, and girls should be girls. We don’t need people like Hummel and Kraofsky confusing that." _

_ "They're just trying to live their life." _ Sam's voice was quiet, almost unheard over the clinging of bottles. A few moments later he asked,  _ "What're you going to do next?" _

_ "Dunno," _ Hudson sounded angry, but in the room he just looked ill,  _ "Gonna have to teach Hummer a lesson. Little fag punched me, can't let that stand." _

_ "We could nail his lawn furniture to the roof again." _ Abrams suggested,  _ "throw pee balloons. That made him cry last time." _

_ "What if we like... throw him in the boot of a car and just drive him out of town? He'll remember that." _ Hudson laughed at his own suggestion, and Kurt gently touched his dad's arm, as the vein on his forehead started to throb.

_ “Maybe if we roughed him up a bit first,”  _ Abrams’s voice added, and Hudson laughed on the other end of the recording.

_ "He could get really hurt-" _ Sam started to defend Kurt, and then there was the sound of glass shattering.

_ "That's the point, Evans! I don't want guys like him at my school. I want him to go. Go to some faggy place like Carmel or wherever. Do his faggy shit elsewhere." _ Hudson practically exploded,  _ "Anyone would think you're standing up for him. He hasn't infected you too has he?" _

_ "If he was gonna infect anyone it'd be you, right?" _ Abrams snorted, putting on a high, lispy voice.  _ "Oh, Finn, can you take my jacket? Oh, Finn, don't let them hurt my car. Oh, Finn, can I blow-" _

_ "Shut up!" _ There was the sound of glass shattering again, what sounded like more, and then a thump of flesh hitting something hard.  _ "I'm not a fag! I don't want fags anywhere near me! Got it?" _ There was silence for a moment, alongside panicked breathing before there were some light footsteps.  _ "You made me smash the beers, asshole." _

_ "You threw them," _ Abrams muttered,  _ "What're we doing about Puckerman and Karofsky?" _

_ "Fag-ofsky turned into a pussy. That thing his mom wrote on his locker really upset him, so if we keep pushing him, I bet he breaks and ends up running away. Puckerman... you know what he's like. He thinks he's a badass, but he's gonna come crawling back the minute he realizes that no-one's on his side."  _ Hudson sounded very casual.  _ "He's a pussy too. Stole his girlfriend, and he didn't say anything. You think Santana was his wig?" _

_ "Beard?"  _ Abrams sounded thoughtful _ , "Makes sense, her and Pierce are total secret lesbians." _

_ "I don't care, lesbians are hot." _ Hudson let out a laugh on the other end. The recording ended suddenly after and everyone sat in silence for a moment.

"I think it is clear that something here has to change!" Figgin's announced, looking around, "And not just because of the underage drinking and threats of violence!"

"This is bullshit! There are laws about recording people!" Hudson burst out of his seat, looking around wildly, before his eyes settled on Sam. "You did this."

Kurt glanced back to Sam who looked up at Hudson, chin jutting out very heroically. "You did this to yourself. I just caught it on tape." Sam's voice was sharp.

"Why would you even record what people are saying? That's creepy, dude." Hudson flinched and Kurt saw the way that Sam's eyes darted towards him.

"Creepy or not, this would serve as very good evidence in any legal proceedings. Mr. Evans also confessed and implicated several of you in a long list of acts." Figgin's made a wide gesture to the room.

"The confession of a single teenager can't be enough evidence to punish several upstanding members of the football team," Mr. Abrams said, looking around, before his eyes settled on Kurt accusingly, "That boy confessed to starting a fight, so-"

"Hudson started the fight,” Sam muttered, folding his arms, “when he threw that slushy at Dave.” 

An argument erupted at that, Hudson and Mr. Abrams shouting at Sam, Burt and Dwight shouting back, a hurtful statement thrown in Dave’s direction pulling Paul in to defend his son, and through it all Figgin’s dull, monotonous voice calling for calm. Kurt sunk into his chair, and as he glanced around the room, his eyes settled on Carole Hudson, who was looking at him with a strange empathy and sadness. 

“Enough!”

The voice didn’t come from any of the people who had been yelling, and Kurt turned in surprise to see Mrs. Puckerman standing up, her face thunderous. Everyone turned to gape at her, but she didn’t back down as she straightened up.

“Honestly, if this is where these kids have learnt communication skills, no wonder they’ve ended up like they have. You are all adults. Act like it, instead of bitching!” Her voice made everyone flinch, and she took one more deep breath before she sat down next to Puck. 

“Noah’s mother is right,” Carole said softly, “I had no idea about any of this, but I’ve noticed that Finn has been different for the past year or two. I thought it was just... teenage boy nonsense. I didn’t think it was...” She looked over at Kurt sadly, “I’m sorry.” 

“You couldn’t have known,” Kurt said softly, “I didn’t even tell my dad how bad it had gotten. After his heart attack, I couldn’t put that kind of stress on him.” 

Figgins leaned forward, coughing lightly, “The suggestion of suspensions from the football team have been brought up, or even more complete suspensions. However, I have been convinced that this would be of greater detriment to the football team than to the students. However, this whole series of events will go on record, and there will be no second chance! Any fights relating to this one will result in punitive action!”

Kurt swallowed heavily, not daring to look at any of the other teens.

“There needs to be a better anti-bullying policy.” Burt said, his voice deep and angry. “I was here at the same time Paul was, and I’ve gotta say, it doesn’t look like this school has got any better for gay kids since we were here.” 

“This is something we will have to look into. However, at the moment I think it best that we all agree to put the current situation in the past.” Figgins said loudly, “To push this further would be of detriment to all six students, and there would be no winners. I suggest that all of the parents have a long conversation with their children about proper conduct, with the knowledge that if any parties continue their behavior there will be dire consequences!”

Kurt winced, and looked at his knees as everyone murmured their agreement. The Abrams left quickly, as everyone was standing up, and the teachers left the sewing room too leaving only the parents behind. Mary quickly approached and wrapped Kurt in a tight hug that Kurt practically melted into. Dwight, Paul and Burt stood to one side talking, whilst Carole and Puck’s mom spoke, keeping an eye on the furious looking Hudson still sat in his seat. 

When Kurt finally pulled back, Mary stepped away, and Kurt was left with Sam, standing and looking at him with inscrutable eyes. The silence dragged on for a moment, and Kurt wasn’t sure how to act.

“Guess the blackmail’s useless now, huh?” Sam said after another moment, and Kurt’s stomach clenched.

“Why... why did you do that?” He asked quietly, uncertain. 

“Because... If Puckerman is a better person than me, then I’ve really gone off course.” Sam muttered, looking down at his feet. “Dave really laid into me about just standing and watching you get hurt. He walked out of the house and didn’t come back.” 

“I think he spent the night at Pucks,” Kurt offered quietly, and Sam looked confused over at where Paul had turned to talk to Dave, Puck standing guard over the other teen’s shoulder with a stony look. 

“Well, I guess that’s good for them.” He finally said.

“I don’t know how good from that limp,” Kurt responded without thinking, and then felt his face burn as Sam turned to look at him with wide eyes, “Forget it, I don’t know anything.” 

“That’s definitely not true.” Sam said softly, and he gave Kurt a small smile, “and if it’s going to be you, and Dave, and even Puckerman on the same team, looks like it’s time for me to officially jump ship.” 

“You’re going to risk talking to me in the halls?” Kurt said, and he was only half joking, but Sam nodded sharply. 

“Yeah.” 

“Sam, you don’t have to pretend to be my friend anymore. I can’t blackmail you over anything, since you told Figgins everything.” Kurt muttered looking away, and Sam’s hand came out to touch his shoulder.

“You’re right. I don’t have to pretend anything.” His voice was soft, as he forced Kurt to look in his eyes, “You’re just my friend. No blackmail, no coercion. We’re just Kurt and Sam.”

“Sure.” Kurt said, nodding slowly, “Just... friends.”

“Friends.”

The two of them paused again, and Kurt quickly turned back to look at the assembled parents, “You know barring the obvious, we have the start of a very effective PFLAG chapter here, you know?” 

“Totally,” Sam nodded a little too quickly, “But you’ve gotta convince Mrs. Puckerman, because she is scary.” 

“First, I have to survive my dad,” Kurt muttered back, and Sam laughed, “If David’s going to be out of the house more, maybe I can convince your parents to let me sleep on the couch.” 

“The only smart thing would be to make you share with Puckerman. Then nobody is going to be sleeping with anyone.” Sam muttered, and Kurt laughed too. He could see the way that Hudson was looking at the two of them, but for once it didn’t fill him with terror. 

“You think Puckerman wouldn’t want this? I’m basically a proto-Cheerio.” Kurt muttered back, but before they could continue verbally sparring, there was a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s keep the number of guys you’re sharing a bed with whilst grounded to zero.” Burt grumbled, and Kurt turned bright red as Sam bit his lip to contain his laughter. “The adults are going to go have a conversation. You’re all going to class, and you’re going to stay in school until the end of school.”

“Yes, dad.” Kurt rolled his eyes, and Burt rolled them right back, “I mean... technically, I told you how I got beaten up. So.. I’m ungrounded?”

“Nice try kid,” Burt snorted, and shook his head. “You’re grounded until Friday. Minimum.”

Kurt opened his mouth to argue and then caught himself. He had punched another person in the face, so... that was more than fair. “Okay.” 

“So how about on Saturday, you invite Dave, and Sam over?” Burt offered, and Kurt nodded thankfully. “Alright. I’m gonna go save Carole. You two keep the talk PG, you hear?”

“Yes, sir,” Sam nodded quickly, and Burt pat him on the shoulder before heading over to Carole. Sam shook his head, and then reached out entirely casually to cup Kurt’s elbow with his hand as he leaned in, “I’m going to go and try and work out what happened last night with those two.” He whispered, gesturing towards Dave and Puck, who had been left alone now that Dwight and Mary were talking with Paul more obviously. “I’ll see you later.” 

Kurt nodded far more calmly than he felt, his heart hammering in his chest suddenly as Sam offered him another small smile and walked away.

It was only as Sam reached them, and he looked over his shoulder towards Kurt and noticed him watching, and gave him a big grin that made Kurt feel a little warm all over, that Kurt realized that he was now in an entirely different kind of trouble.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt instantly regretted giving in to David’s large, sad eyes. It had obviously been a ploy, in retrospect, for David to get his way. Kurt was definitely going to have to keep an eye on that going forward, because it was a potent tool in Dave’s arsenal. Dave’s life was on an upswing, maybe to even greater heights than it had before. He was still living with the Evans family, but his dad was sending money for Dave, but it was basically going straight to the Evans, even if they didn’t realise it, and more importantly for Dave’s mental state, the two of them were talking again. The knowledge that his dad still loved him deeply clearly meant a lot to Dave.. He even managed to avoid most of the backlash at school. Sure there were some slurs being thrown around, but nobody dared to start an actual fight with Sam and Puck by Dave’s side, and Kurt had even got a small reputation of his own now that deterred some of the minor shoving.

It was just that Kurt was caught entirely off guard when, on the Friday afternoon as they left school, David turned to him and asked, “It’s okay if Noah comes tomorrow, right?” 

There was a sarcastic remark of ‘I suppose that’s up to you two’ on the tip of Kurt’s tongue, but he didn’t let it fly, Unfortunately his hesitation meant he left it too long to confidently jump straight into saying no. “It’s Noah now is it?” 

“Not at school, but when we... hang out.” Dave said, pointedly not making eye contact and turning red. It made Kurt want to dig into what ‘Hanging out’ entailed, but he also definitely did not want to ask. As the week had continued, the nagging doubt had begun to creep into the back of his mind again. Of the three men interested in men that Kurt knew, none of them were attracted to him. They were either coupling up themselves, or had secret crushes on some unknown entity out in the universe. “And I suppose with you guys, if you’re cool. I mean, he’s been over to Sam’s a lot, and it feels weird for the three of us to be friends, and then the other three to be friends, when all four of us could just be...friends.” Dave continued, and Kurt blinked a few times to try and clear his mind.

Kurt had wanted to argue that he didn’t exactly trust Puckerman all that much, but when he turned to begin explaining, and Dave looked back at him with the sad look again, his resolve crumbled. “Fine. But he’s your responsibility.” 

But of course, it wasn’t going to be that easy. Sam and Dave arrived bright and early on Saturday. It was old routine at this point for them to say hello to Burt as they entered, chat for several minutes with both Hummels, but the conversation began to run dry as they waited for Puck to arrive. Finally, long after they had run out of good talking points to bring up with your friend's dad, Kurt moved them to the basement, but out of a sense of politeness, he avoided starting any games or anything, just chatting casually as they waited.

Almost a whole hour later, Burt called down to say that he was heading out to the garage, and not three minutes after that, there was a knocking at the basement window. Kurt turned to look at Puck, entirely unimpressed. Then he saw the bright grin that David sent towards Puck, and instantly felt guilty not only for begrudging them that, but that he wished it was aimed at him instead. He moved to unlock the window, and his eyes only narrowed further as Puck slipped in with a couple of bags. 

“You’re late,” Kurt said, perhaps a little imperiously as Puck finally made it to the ground, “And you are aware we have a front door, yes? You don’t have to break in like a vandal every time.”

“Window was closer, and your dad was home.” Puck gave Kurt a strange look, pulling away like he was a little uncomfortable, “Unless your dad is usually home during gay club?” 

Kurt rolled his eyes, hard. “This isn’t a gay club,” He muttered, “and, as you used to your benefit, my dad is often working, so we have the house to ourselves.”

“A Homo Hangout then,” Puck shrugged, with a grin, “Awesome. Anyway, I brought some supplies, couldn’t get hold of my weed dealer, think she’s in Juvie again-” 

“What do you mean supplies?” Sam asked curiously, and Puck handed off the bags to him. Sam opened them, and pulled out what looked to be a bottle of vodka and a two liter bottle of Diet Coke. Kurt had to wonder if that should be considered a considerate move considering Puck had only ever seen him drinking Diet Coke at lunch.

“We don’t tend to get drunk before noon, Puckerman,” He muttered, and then shook his head before rephrasing,, “We don’t tend to get drunk, period.” 

“I mean, it could be fun?” David suggested, taking the bottle of vodka from Sam and turning it over in his hands as he examined it, “I went to a lot of parties, and honestly, drinking isn’t bad.” 

“And I brought like...Mixers,” Puck pointed at the Diet Coke, smiling at Kurt as he did so, “So it’s gayer for you.” 

Kurt tried to find something suitably catty to respond with, which also juggled with the effects of Puck clearly putting in effort to be nice somehow. He was still thinking when Sam pulled out a DVD from the bag, and made a very odd noise. Puck glanced over and then nodded, “Yeah, that’s one of Dave’s favorites.” 

“One of Dave’s-” Sam managed to say, before he shoved the DVD back into the bag, his eyes wide as if he was trying to un-see some unspeakable horror.

“Well, yeah. I know what Dave’s into, and I know what I’m into-” Puck shot a smirk at Dave who seemed confused but smiled at the attention, “-and then I just grabbed a bunch of randoms so we can work out what you two are into.” 

“I’m happy with any kind of movie,” Kurt said, trying to smile politely for Dave’s sake, even if he had no idea what this conversation was about anymore, “God knows I’ve forced these two to sit through too many musicals.” 

Sam made another pained noise, and Puck turned to Kurt with a wide toothy smile, as though Kurt was the most fascinating thing in the room.

“Sure, let’s let Hummel pick first-” Puck snatched the bag away from Sam, and held it out to Kurt. Sam’s hand snapped at the air in a futile attempt to reclaim the bag, but Kurt found himself unable to look away from the challenging look in Puck’s eyes. 

“Fine.” He reached into the bag, pulling out a handful of plastic cases to pick from randomly. He finally looked away from Puck, reading the titles as casually as he-

He paused. 

He read the titles again.

He looked up at the smirk on Puck’s face, and back at the bag of gay pornography. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What’s the big deal about-” David leaned over Kurt’s shoulder, and instantly his face turned red, “Puck!”

“What?” Puck frowned, rearing back a little, “I know I didn’t drop any lesbian stuff in there by accident. Should be all dudes, all the time.”

“You brought porn?” Dave hissed, knocking the DVDs out of Kurt’s hand back into the bag and snatching it away. Kurt let him, trying to ignore how tight his body felt, unnatural and painfully so, the urge to run flooding the back of his mind. Dave stepped a little in front of Kurt, puffing himself up. “Not cool.” 

“Uh, totally cool?” Puck frowned, stepping back a little as though Dave might throw fists. “You’re the ones who get together and ‘play Mario Kart’.” He literally put air-quotes around the words, and Sam scoffed loudly before gesturing to the Wii and the Mario Kart case sitting on the floor next to the tv. Puck’s frown only grew, “Wait, seriously?” 

“Yes, seriously!” Sam snapped, “When did Mario Kart become code for porn?” 

“Well, cause it’s a gay group. Y’know, a group of gay teenage guys.” Puck gestured wildly to the group, as though he was the offended one.

“And you thought that this was what gay people did?” Sam asked, his shoulders straightening. 

“I thought that was what teenage guys did!” Puck snapped, “This isn’t homophobic. I’m not a Homophobe. Me, Hudson and Abrams used to do this all the time!”

And at any other moment, that would have blown Kurt’s mind enough to distract him for several days, but right now, Kurt felt entirely uncomfortable. “I’m going to go... elsewhere.” He said softly, and started moving but Puck’s hand snapped out and caught his wrist. He flinched and Sam moved forward, but when Kurt turned to look at Puck, there was a genuine look of concern.

“You’re really upset about this?” He asked, all the loud bravado gone in an instant, and although Kurt didn’t answer verbally, Puck was clearly able to read it off his face. “I’m sorry. Seriously. This is just... what dude hangouts have been like for me. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

Kurt swallowed, and carefully removed Puck’s hand. “I... I just don’t consume male erotica.” 

“He means-” Sam started to explain, and Puck silenced him with a look. 

“Porn, yeah, obviously,” Puck turned back to Kurt, shoving his hands in his pocket. “The Hudson thing?” 

Kurt flinched, and Puck nodded seriously, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. 

“Okay. So, Mario Kart!” He turned back to Sam and pointed almost violently. “You’re going to get beat, Evans. You’re going down.” 

Kurt stepped back and let them all sort out the machine, taking a moment to steady himself before he pulled over his desk chair and sat on it a few feet away from the couch, trying to appear casual as opposed to what he wanted to do, which was curl into a ball in bed. 

He was still able to easily trounce everyone at Mario Kart, although it wasn’t a fair fight, because Dave was distracted by Puck, and although Puck pretended he wasn’t, he was totally distracted by David too. And Sam had never been Kurt’s greatest competitor. 

They artfully dodged around any difficult topic, and Puck managed to make the bag disappear whilst Kurt went to the bathroom, so the only reminder was when Sam paused and looked at Dave with wide eyes and said, “Wait, how does Puck know what your favourite-” And then caught himself, and everyone except Puck went back to looking at the screen and not at each other, whilst Puck grinned like the cat that got the cream.

But when everyone had left, Puck reappeared at Kurt’s window, which was starting to be an almost hilarious pattern. Kurt opened it, but Puck didn’t move to slip in, just crouching down. 

“You know I’m sorry about the Hudson thing, right? Like I made that super clear.” Puck asked, and Kurt offered him a tight smile.

“I understand that you didn’t intend for it to happen, and that you didn’t see the bullying to be about me being gay. But it  _ was  _ always about me being gay. Not a day went by when I wasn’t called a fag, or a fairy, or a homo, or a lady.” 

Puck listened carefully and nodded, before he pulled out his phone. “You’ve got an email address right? A private one?” Kurt sighed, and rattled it off as Puck put it into his phone. “I’m gonna make this right, Hummel. Because you’re Dave’s boy, so you’re my boy too now, got it?” 

“What is going on with you and David?” Kurt asked, leaning forward, “Because... he is my friend. And I don’t mean to say something that’ll end with you murdering me in my bedroom here, but... you do have a reputation for sleeping around.” 

“Yeah, I do,” Puck nodded, and there was a flash of something like hurt on his face before he muttered, “But I’m not gonna talk to you about that yet. Because me and Dave haven’t talked about that yet. I don’t intend to hurt him though. I hope you can trust me on that.” 

“Remember, suit the action to the word, the word to the action,” Kurt said quietly, and then rolled his eyes, “It’s-” 

“Shakespeare. Yeah.” Puck grinned, shaking his head, “You’ve got this real 2D view of me, Hummel. My nickname is Puck, and I don’t play hockey.” 

Kurt blinked, and narrowed his eyes in consideration. Puck had certainly revealed himself to be more than the dumb, straight jock who threw him in the garbage, “Perhaps I have been a little dismissive of your intelligence.” 

Puck nodded, and then looked over his shoulder. “Alright. This has been super gay.”

“Shocking.” Kurt rolled his eyes, but it didn’t feel particularly mean-spirited on Puck’s end. “Well, I’ll just be here, ruminating on what exactly yours and Dave’s relationship is.” 

Puck snorted, and pulled away, “Sure, and I’ll go home and text Dave about our  _ relationship _ .” The way he said the word sounded positively dirty, and Kurt was happy to pull away from the window and hide his wide eyed look. “See you later Hummel.” 

Kurt finished tidying up the room, and was halfway into his moisteurising routine when an email popped up on his phone. It was from Puck with some very casual subject line, but the content made Kurt’s heart hammer.

**_So, judgement free zone, I’ve decided to be your sex guru. I’m going to help you figure out all this stuff, so that when you’re ready, you’ll feel totally confident making your move. And I’m going to politely not take no for an answer, so! What’re you into?_ **

Kurt stared at the message for a long time, before responding with a curt: _ I don’t think I need your advice. _

Puck responded quickly _ ;  _ **_You thinking there’s someone else out there willing to listen, who can give better advice? I’m talking about a dude, who likes dudes, in your general age range. Cannot pick the Berry’s._ **

_ The internet exists for a reason. If I wanted to look any of this up, I could. _

**_But you won’t. You’ll read a couple of Mrs. Tanaka’s pamphlets, get all blushy, and then decide to stay a virgin until you’re 30, which is totally a choice you can make, but sex is great._ **

Kurt sighed and put the phone aside, finishing his makeup routine. By the time he picked it back up, Puck had sent him two more emails, repeating the same statement, and Kurt rolled his eyes.

_ The whole point of emails is that you don’t have to answer them immediately, Puckerman. _

**_Well, I don’t know what you’re like yet. Maybe you not replying means you’ve decided to ignore me. Anyway, I’m gonna jump to the point. Dave said you had a thing for Chang? Which I can totally use as a starting point, even if he doesn’t seem that gay, I just want confirmation._ **

Kurt rolled his eyes as hard as he could. _ I don’t have a crush on Mike Chang. _

The response took longer this time, and Kurt was almost ready to fall asleep when he got back a message. He opened it, and read it slowly.

**_There’s nothing wrong with having a crush, Kurt. It sucks that people in this town have made you feel like it’s wrong for you to like sex. There’s a link to like... the softest, barely even porn, guy on guy scene. Maybe give it a watch, and see if you can enjoy it. Cause there’s nothing wrong with liking dudes. Don’t worry about replying or anything tonight. I’ll talk to you tomorrow._ **

Kurt was ready to send a message back refusing, but... his curiosity was raised, and if it was anything traumatic, he could get rid of it and murder Puckerman.

The link led to a video of two guys on a couch, and Kurt was sure that one of them was supposed to remind him of Mike Chang. But it was the other guy his eyes were drawn to, a blonde who looked fairly muscular. No clothes were missing or displaced, there were no gaudy sets or costumes. The guys on the couch were chatting, thought Kurt had not turned on the sound, and then... they kissed, very softly and without the usual ‘eating each other's face’ situation from the other things Kurt had seen. Not to say it wasn’t... passionate seemed the wrong word, but they looked at each other with love in their eyes, and the blonde reached up to cup the Chang-alike’s jaw.

The entire clip was only a couple of minutes long, and nobody ever even took off clothes. It was just some light making out, and some very, very gentle touching of shoulders and arms and faces. Kurt found himself starting it again, and wishing he had someone who would look at him like that.

After the third viewing he sighed, and turned off the clip, before replying.  _ He looked nothing like Mike Chang. However, you were right that that was better than some of the other things I’ve been exposed to. I’m not saying to fill my inbox with cheap, nasty porn, but, if you’re sure you want to do this, I’m not going to ignore you. I do not need erotica starring people who look like people we know though. No more people who look like Mike Chang.  _

**_Nah, you were more interested in the blonde, right? ;) No worries, it’s a good starting point. Now get some sleep. I’m not having your dad come after me with a tire iron cause you stayed up too late._ **

Kurt snorted, but turned over and put his phone on the cabinet before he let himself be drawn into sleep. The thought only occurred to him in the few seconds before Kurt drifted off that he had to ask what Puck had meant about preferring the blonde.

* * *

He didn’t really get chance to question Puck about it, because Sunday his dad needed an extra hand at the garage, and then Monday morning, Kurt was forced to get to school early to meet Sam and Dave about the PFLAG Idea they had had, which meant his best chance was going to be lunch.

Until Puck approached their table with a lot more than one person in tow. 

“Sup. So, eating alone sucks,” He announced loudly as he moved to sit down. “So, doing a quick run through, Sam Evans, Dave Karofsky, Kurt Hummel, I’m obviously too cool to require naming, and then Tina Cohen-Chang, Mercedes Jones, and Mike Chang.” Kurt blinked at the girls, who blinked back at him, as Mike Chang slipped in next to Sam and gave him a small smile. Puck was the first to notice the awkwardness of the moment, as the two girls stood next to the table, and managed to tear himself away from Dave long enough for him to turn back to them. “You two know Hummel from the whole Nude Erections thing, right?” 

Kurt watched the girls flinch, and he shot Puck a look. “It was the New Directions. Mercedes sang an amazing rendition of Respect, and advised me to sing Mr. Cellophane after a brief miscommunication about her choir. And Tina sang ‘I kissed a girl’, a fantastic and compelling choice.” 

“Cool, cool.” Puck nodded, but his attention was clearly drifting toward Dave. It was actually kind of sweet, if Kurt ignored the fact that whatever Puck was muttering was making Dave turn red. 

“I... appreciated our brief foray into friendship before,” Kurt said calmly gesturing to the seats closest to him, watching them both sit down, “I apologies that I fell out of communication.” 

Sam leaned into the conversation with a small smile, “Kurt was being an idiot. He thought you were getting bullied worse for hanging out with the gay kid.” 

Mercedes wrinkled her nose, and pointed her fingers at Kurt in warning, “Oh no, I own my own life. You do not get to choose for me.” 

Kurt couldn’t help a small smile, and turned back to his food. “Well, it’s a mistake I’ll try not to make again.” 

Sam put a warm hand on his back and Kurt let some of the tension drain out of him as Mercedes started asking him a question about the scarf he had chosen to wear today. Kurt made sure to ask Tina lots of questions too, and although it felt like there were three separate conversations going on at the table, it felt like there was a genuine group of people here. Kurt couldn’t help but feel this is what the Glee Club could have been, and it set a small stone of sadness in his stomach, but then he took a deep breath and put it aside for the enjoyment he had here and now. 

* * *

The invitation Kurt received to Puck’s house in his inbox, was immediately replied to with a couple of caveats after Kurt received it. There would be no unsolicited porn. David would be in attendance too. Everything would be kept remotely PG, and in exchange, Kurt would listen and be as receptive as possible.

Kurt didn’t want to admit that he chose his ‘I’m about to be bullied’ clothes to go and visit Puck’s house. He wanted to trust that David at the very least would have his best interests in mind, but he had seen sexual interest do some very strange things to boys. He made sure he wasn’t carrying anything that could be stolen, beyond his phone, and after much debate, had sent Mercedes a brief message mentioning that he was going to visit Puck’s house and if she never heard from him again, she should a) tell his dad, and b) feel free to raid his closet. It was smarter than telling Sam who would have invited himself along, or perhaps just told Kurt not to go.

Puck answered the door with a wide grin, and what was clearly a love bite on his clavicle, barely covered by the vest he was wearing. Kurt narrowed his eyes at it, and then looked up at Puck. “I expected everyone would be fully dressed.” 

“Hey, I have a layer on every bit of me.” Puck gestured to himself with a long sweeping hand, and then flexing a little, “Just cause you’re intimidated by my guns-”

“I just believe in putting in an effort to look nice.” Kurt sniffed, raising his nose, and Puck grinned before leaning in.

“But I do look nice. You’re just not the intended audience, Hummel.” He said, before he turned and walked into the house. Kurt followed him past the doorway, looking around curiously, and Puck turned around after a moment, “We’ve got the house to ourselves. Sarah and mom are out doing girl bonding stuff.” 

“And Dave is here?” Kurt asked as casually as possible. Puck nodded sharply, which let Kurt relax a little, and roll his eyes, “I still don’t understand why you invited me over.”

“Cause I realized that... getting you into the whole sex thing isn’t going to happen based on you watching stuff. Not that you’ve been complaining about the stuff I’ve sent you, but it’s clear we’ve hit a plateau.” Puck said, starting up the stairs, “You’re more like a chick. You want feelings and emotions and stuff, rather than any hot guy who throws himself at you.” 

“I resent the implication that I’m a woman.” Kurt muttered, and Puck paused on the landing to look back.

“You’re right. No. You’re not a chick. I just don’t have the words to talk about this shit well. There’s nothing wrong wanting like... an attachment before boning. It just means we’ve got to help you do better at letting people get close to you.” 

“I have made more friends this week that I had for the past two years.” Kurt said, straightening his back. “I’m clearly doing okay.” 

“Will you come sit down before we start talking about this?” Puck gestured, and stepped out of sight. Kurt followed, immediately feeling a little claustrophobic in the tight space, but he was able to follow Puck’s trail easily enough to the only open door. Puck’s house was nowhere near as large as the one Kurt lived in, and the whole place felt a little sad. Kurt was suddenly thankful for his basement. Whilst sometimes lonely, it had given him a place to exist. 

David was already inside Puck’s bedroom, sitting at the head of a bed. He grinned as Kurt entered, and gave him a small wave. Puck climbed onto the bed too, a little closer to Dave than was Kurt’s idea of platonic, but Kurt couldn’t see any chairs for him to sit on. “Where am I supposed to sit?”

“On the bed, dude,” Puck gestured, and then gave a dirty grin, “It’s handled three before.” 

“Noah,” David said with a warning tone, and Puck rolled his eyes. 

“I washed the sheets before you came. It’s clean.” Puck shot Kurt a look that held a little flicker of challenge, and Kurt felt himself rising to the bait, moving to sit on the edge of the bottom. “Cool. We’re all comfy? I can offer you some slightly suspect tap water.” 

“Thank you, but I’ll pass.” Kurt said with a tight smile. He glanced around, and his eyes fell on a pair of Letterman jackets hanging on the back of the door, and he couldn’t help himself. “Did you have the conversation yet? Because I cannot keep ignoring these hints, I’m sorry but I’m not that strong.” 

Puck snorted, and glanced to David who rolled his eyes. “It’s up to you, babe.”

“He clearly knows,” Dave muttered, and then punched Puck’s knee. “And if he didn’t, then you calling me Babe didn’t make it any subtler.” 

“You like it when I call you babe,” Puck said with a smirk, and Dave blushed a little before pushing Puck away. “He’s your friend, you get the honors.” Puck said, but gently touched Dave’s leg, almost reassuringly.

“Fine,” Dave sighed, and turned to Kurt, “yes. Me and Puck are dating.” 

“I see.” Kurt said, and immediately hated himself for the spike of jealousy that shot through him. Of course David would find a boyfriend before him, because there wasn’t a person alive who was going to end up picking Kurt over any other man- 

“Hey, stop that,” Puck slapped his arm, drawing him out of the sudden spiral with sharp pain. “First off, be happy that your friend got a certified hunk of man-meat.” 

“I’m sorry, Dave, I’m happy for you,” Kurt said, smiling more genuinely, and wincing when Puck slapped him again, “What? I was being honest.” 

“I was talking about me,” Puck said, but his grin made it clear he wasn’t being serious. Dave scoffed, and before Kurt could react, Puck had already closed the distance and pulled Dave into a passionate kiss. Kurt immediately felt his face go hot, and as much as he felt he should look away, he was entranced as Puck pulled back and put his hand on the back of Dave’s neck, pulling him forward so their foreheads were touching, “What’ve I told you about acting like I don’t mean it, when I say nice shit?” Puck’s voice was softer than Kurt thought he had ever heard it before. 

Dave let out a little laugh, and they stayed there for a moment before Puck pulled back with a sigh that suggested that it wasn’t what he wanted to do. Kurt swallowed heavily, and Puck turned to him with a lazy grin. 

“There was a second thing, but I’ve totally forgotten now.”

Kurt nodded, and looked away, very carefully not moving his legs or anything to draw attention to his lower body. “Well, I remember there being a rule about no pornography-” 

“That wasn’t even close to our porniest.” Puck snorted, “But yeah. Me and Dave are a couple. And you need to start making some friends so that you can fall in love with one of them. First Rule. Can’t be me or Dave. I’ve done the love triangle thing once, and I’m not down for a repeat. Although, if we get to graduation and we’re about to send you off with the big V, we can have a conversation.” 

“We won’t have a  _ conversation _ ,” Dave jabbed Puck with his knee, “because that won’t happen.” 

“So the problem is, you’re not good at making friends,” Puck continued casually, ignoring Dave’s interruption, “Which is why I’ve introduced you to the perfect test subject.” 

Kurt frowned, narrowing his eyes, “Okay, this might have been confused due to the situation with yourself and Sam, but I am gay. I am only attracted to men, and unfortunately, I do not believe that would encompass Tina or Mercedes.” 

“Well, of course not,” Puck rolled his eyes, but his smirk only grew, “which is why I brought Chang.” 

“No-” Kurt held up his hands, and shifted away, “Why would you- Why is this even a- No.” 

Dave sighed softly, and reached forward to put a hand softly on Kurt’s ankle, “Kurt, don’t freak out.” 

“Why wouldn’t I freak out?” Kurt muttered, resisting the urge to kick out at the touch, “I don’t want to get murdered.” 

Puck shook his head, a little frustrated, “Chang isn’t like that. He’s a good guy.” 

“Like you and Hudson?” Kurt snapped, and then flinched and looked away, “I didn’t mean that.” 

Puck closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before he spoke again. “Yeah. You did, and I’m working on proving I’m not just a blazing dumpster fire of a person. But Chang is actually a good guy. And we’re not talking about anything dramatic. I’m talking about us hanging out, teaching you how to have guy friends, before the only guy you can find to hang out with is basically your clone.” 

“Maybe I’d like that,” Kurt muttered to himself, and then frowned when the two others shared a look. “What?”

“You have a type,” Dave said, clearly doing his best to stop his own little grin, “and that’s totally fine, but I don’t think you’re going to be happy with a clone.” 

“Oh, really?” Kurt scoffed, “And what is my type?” 

“Football players who aren’t assholes,” Puck said, and quickly added, “Let’s ignore the obvious and jump straight to Evans and I guess, Chang.” 

“Probably not just football players,” Dave rolled his eyes at Puck, interrupting before Kurt could even argue that he didn’t like Sam, “But you like... good dudes. Let me paint you a picture, you’re walking down the hallways and your boyfriends there, right? It’s got a little colder than you thought it would, and he wraps his Letterman jacket around your shoulders, and you walk to class chatting about your weekends, until he gives you a kiss at the classroom door, and you realize his class is like... other side of the school, but he just wanted to see you.” 

Kurt opened his mouth to argue the point, but that was definitely an appealing landscape. He glanced away, took a quick breath, and muttered indignantly, “You’re totally painting me as the girl in that scenario, and I-” 

“You want to feel safe and protected,” Puck said, with a wistful tone, “but you also want a guy who's going to listen to you. It doesn’t mean you’re ‘the chick’ if the guy you like wants to show you that he’s thinking about you and cares for you with stuff like that.” 

“I’d give you my jacket,” Dave mumbled, and Kurt thought for a moment that he was talking to him, until he saw the way that Dave glanced up through his eyelashes at Puck, who smiled softly, “you know, if you wanted.” 

“Yeah?” Puck leaned towards Dave again, and Kurt turned his head away to give them a moment of privacy, pulling his phone out to check it casually, but the making out seemed to be over quickly. “You need to stop distracting me.” Puck said his voice deep, but with obvious amusement.

“Yeah, I’m the distracting one,” Dave snorted, and Kurt could hear the bed creak as Puck moved and coughed politely behind Kurt.

“You two are too cute, it’s almost nauseating” Kurt said, turning around. Puck preened under the comment, and Kurt rolled his eyes before sighing, “Is Mike Chang even attracted to men? Because I can not fall in love with another straight man.” 

Puck shook his head, and threw an arm around Kurt’s shoulder, “You’re already jumping to falling in love? One step at a time, Hummel! First things first, we’ve gotta teach you how to spend time with new people. So, next Thursday, after school, you’re hosting a dude night.”

“I am?” Kurt asked, trying to keep his tone lightly, “and who will be coming to this dude night?” 

“Well, you, me, Dave, Chang and Evans.” Puck gestured, as though it were obvious, and maybe it should have been, but Kurt couldn’t displace the flash of a bunch of randomers flooding into his space and touching his things, making him inherently uncomfortable. 

“And we’re just excluding Mercedes and Tina?” Kurt asked as he realized the silence had stretched on too long, and it was clearly the wrong question as Puck sighed loudly.

“I’m trying to help you make dudes see you as a dude. If you are hanging with those two, it’s just going to be all Vogue, and musicals, and stuff.” 

Kurt wanted to snap and defend himself. His interests weren’t gendered, and even if they were, they were the things that he enjoyed. The things that had helped him survive whilst people like Puckerman and Hudson had torn the rest of his life to shreds.

But he didn't want to poke a sleeping bear. Puck was being, what Kurt had to assume was, the kindest he could be. And that was just because Kurt was Dave's friend. If they fell out, that would definitely have a knock on effect on Dave and Puck's relationship, and Kurt wanted his friend to be happy. it could even be useful to be better at blending into the more socially acceptable crowd. Sure, four fifths of the men there would be some flavor of LGBT, but Kurt was the only one that people had ever clocked. Nobody would have ever dared to say anything in front of Puckerman or Karofsky about their sexuality without knowing for sure. 

"I suppose I'll ask the girls out on another day." Kurt acquiesced, not quite looking back at the two of them, "I am going to require that there is no pornography there. I realize I am the only one who thinks so, but the female form holds no appeal for me."

"Okay, first off, I am a connoisseur. If I wanted to find porn that worked for you and Dave, and Chang, and me and Evans? I'd find it." Puck said, sounding the most offended he had all day, before he looked off into the middle distance dramatically, framing some invisible scene with his hands, "I'm seeing a football player / cheerleader scenario-"

"But, of course we won't." Dave said, reaching up to lower Puck’s hands. "Just five guys, playing some video games, ordering pizza. Hanging out." He smiled and reached over to nudge Kurt in a friendly manner. "It'll be fine."

***

The days were set. Kurt would have a spa day on Wednesday with Tina and Mercedes, and then a boys night on Thursday. That gave him practically a week to buy some ingredients, maybe buy some kind of bean bag chair, which didn't fit with the aesthetic of his room or in his opinion any room or any aesthetic, but felt like it was a reasonable suggestion for a 'boys night'. 

By the time lunch came around on Monday, he was deep in thought with a little notebook, his eyes occasionally scanning the table to listen out for any useful tidbits or see what food was being preferred. Of course that didn’t distract him from poping into Mercedes and Tina’s conversations about the latest album they both had bought, even with Puck trying to drag his attention back to a conversation about sports. 

But he was thoroughly distracted when there was a polite cough, and Tina looked up and muttered “oh no,” under her breath like she’d just seen a pram begin to roll downhill. Kurt turned around in his seat, bracing himself for a slushy or some awful sentiment thrown his way.

Instead it was much worse.

Quinn Fabray stood quietly, holding a small tray of food, and a clearly fake calm look on her face. Kurt couldn’t deny that she looked effortlessly graceful in her nice floral dress and small sweater combination, her hair cut a little shorter than her old ponytail but hanging loose around her shoulders. She was making eye contact with Sam, but her attention did drift to Kurt and the small smile she offered him was nervous, and had no malicious bite behind it. 

“It seems this is the table for wayward souls,” She said delicately, but with a sense of confidence behind it that Kurt had to respect. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I sat with you? Eating in the bathroom has gotten old.” 

The heads at the table swiveled, and Kurt knew who they were looking at. 

The whole Hudson/Puckerman/Fabray situation had always been a mess. Quinn and Hudson had been dating for a while, until she was suddenly discovered to be pregnant. Of course the assumption was that it was Hudson’s child, until it was made clear that it definitely was not. A couple of weeks later, it turned out to be Noah Puckerman’s child, and it had almost brought the upper echelons of the school crashing down to earth until suddenly Puckerman was back at Hudson’s side, and Quinn was no longer a cheerleader, no longer popular, and soon after, no longer pregnant. Even the people she had once bullied treat her like she was the lowest of the low.

Puck frowned, and then turned to Dave with an inscrutable look. Dave seemed to be able to read it however, and Kurt watched as he put his hand hesitantly face up on the table. Puck stared at it for a moment, and then slid his own into it. 

“Me and Dave are dating. Hummel’s gay too. That gonna be a problem with your whole Christian thing, Fabray?” He asked, his voice a little sharp. Quinn’s brow furrowed a little, but only for a second, before she shook her head.

“I don’t think I have any claim to knowing the right way to live your life.” She offered quietly, “I’m glad you’ve found someone, Puck.” 

Kurt’s eyes ping ponged between the two of them for a moment, and then Puck glanced at the rest of the occupants of the table. “Anyone got a problem with her joining us?” 

“Quinn really helped out my family when we were homeless,” Sam said, offering Quinn a small smile, and Kurt got a strangely queasy feeling in his stomach. “I’m happy for her to eat lunch with us.” 

Dave and Mike shrugged casually, and Kurt forced a very polite smile that he knew didn’t reach his eyes at all.

“Honestly, I’m sure me and the ladies would love to have another girl on our side. We’re horribly outnumbered.” He said with a light laugh, and ignored the way that Puck rolled his eyes at him. Quinn however seemed to relax into the feminine atmosphere, and with no further complaints from the table, sat down next to Tina, and complimented the beautiful ring she was wearing. Kurt found himself watching as Mercedes and Tina slowly relaxed into the conversation, and where Puck and Dave hadn’t let go of each other's hand. He hesitated a glance to Mike Chang, but he seemed as casual as always, even if Sam kept glancing towards Quinn curiously.

It was the last one that made Kurt uncomfortable, and he would not be able to begin to explain why. Sam was his friend, and although he had suggested that he wasn’t interested in Quinn because he was interested in someone else, Kurt hadn’t seen any evidence as to who that might be. Maybe Sam had already taken his shot with this other person and was now intrigued by the possibility of the beautiful Miss Fabray. 

Kurt scratched out a sentence in his notebook, but then carefully rewrote it, the violent deletion of the information settling the frustration for a moment. He wondered if he had brought a boyfriend to the table, if it would have been as easily accepted. Tina and Mercedes were quickly growing into good friends, if not just because they could talk easily about things like music and fashion with him, so he doubted they would have anything to say other than potentially patronizing cute noises. Dave would probably be accepting too, he was definitely much more of a teddy bear without the closeted rage constantly surrounding him. Puck would undoubtedly say something mildly offensive, but Kurt had to believe that it would be offered with sincere belief that he was being a good friend. Mike... Kurt hadn’t spent much time talking to him, and he hadn’t been paying attention to how he reacted to the Dave/Puck reveal. 

When lunch was over, everyone split up into their own little subgroups, and Kurt was already walking away when Puck coughed politely and nodded his head towards Mike, who was scraping what was left of his food into the bin. Kurt steeled his spine, and quickly walked over to the jock, his hand in a death grip on the shoulder strap of his bag. 

“Mike?” He said, trying to keep the nerves from pushing his voice any higher. Mike glanced back from where he was putting the tray to one side, and offered Kurt a polite smile, and Kurt realized he wasn’t going to interrupt what Kurt was trying to say, “I was wondering if you’d like to come over and play some video games, on Thursday with some of the other gentlemen. A guys night as it were.” 

“Sure.” 

“I mean, obviously it won’t just be me. Dave and Puckerman are coming, and Sam too I hope.” Kurt continued, the blood pounding in his ears, as he waited for the sting of rejection, “I’ll take care of food and drinks and everything, so you don’t have to worry about bringing anything. Unless you want to bring anything, of course, I just mean that you don’t need to feel like it’s required and if there are any religious or medical dietary requirements, I can certainly accommodate for those. And if it’s coming to my home in broad daylight that’d be making you uncomfortable, we can schedule it for later in the evening-” 

“Kurt.” Mike’s voice was calm and collected, but still cut through the babbling and the nervous thumping in Kurt’s ears, “I said, ‘Sure’. It sounds like fun.” 

Kurt swallowed heavily, and let out a soft, “Oh.” of surprise. He had expected some kind of justification for why Mike wouldn’t want to be there, but Mike seemed to have taken the invitation entirely in his stride. 

“I don’t know what kind of system you have, or what games, but I can bring my X-Box and some options if you think it’d be cool to have more choices?” Mike offered after a half beat, giving Kurt a friendly smile. 

“Of course. I’m more of a Wii player, but I think everyone’s getting worn out on Mario Kart,” Kurt managed to find casual sounding words from some hitherto unknown area of his mind. 

“Cool,” Mike grinned and then glanced over Kurt’s shoulder briefly, “Hey, you’ve got French next, right?”

“Yes?” Kurt blinked and then repeated, “Yes.” as more of a statement than a question.

“I’m over on that side of the building. Why don’t we walk, and we can work out how to politely convince my mom she shouldn’t send any food with me.” Mike grinned, and Kurt nodded, letting himself be moved towards the exit.

As he did so, he was forced to pass Abrams, and Kurt couldn’t help but notice the slushy cup in his hand, and the way Mike had put Kurt on his opposite side to avoid the opportunity. Kurt couldn’t help but see the frustration and impotent rage in Abrams eyes, but Mike defied all the expectations he had set by his usual quietness, by talking at length about some of his mother’s failed cooking experiments until Kurt was stood at his classroom door, before patting him on the back and vanishing off into the school.

He wasn’t sure what to call it, but Kurt realized that Dave’s description of what would make him happy in a boyfriend was definitely not incorrect, and he’d just had an experience almost entirely like that with Mike Chang. There was a little bit of warmth in his chest as he moved into the room and sat at his desk, the start of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

***

By Wednesday, Kurt couldn’t think of a good reason  _ not  _ to invite Quinn to their ‘Girl’s Day’. Despite all of the difficult interpersonal situations, she was fitting into their little lunchtime group without any issues. She was quietly reassuring Tina, a trait which Kurt would not have expected from her, but able to stand sarcastically toe to toe with both Kurt and Mercedes easily. Whilst she and Puck didn’t speak to each other much, she was able to talk about the football team with the boys easily enough.

So, that was how Kurt ended up lying over his own bed with a face mask and cucumbers over his side, Quinn laying the opposite way so their heads were only a foot apart at most, whilst Mercedes and Tina compared shades of the nail polish they had brought. Kurt rolled his eyes, as Tina again complained that the blue Mercedes had brought was too light, and had too much green, and he let out a soft sigh. 

“They’ll tire themselves out,” Quinn whispered, and Kurt couldn’t help but grin to himself.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Kurt said, and then lifted one of the cucumber slices. “Alright, first rule, this does not get back to the boys. Capiche?” 

He waited for them all to nod, before he sighed and removed the other cucumber slice and moved to a medium sized silver case on the bottom of one of his bookcases, bringing it over to the end of his bed, and delicately popping the lock to reveal three rows of different nail polish colors. He watched their eyes go wide, and flopped back onto the bed. “Don’t use it all. I’ve been collecting for years.” 

“Well, if that didn’t cinch it, I don’t know what will,” Quinn said with a small grin, “You’re definitely gay.” 

“Puckerman already told you I was,” Kurt muttered, collecting two new slices of cucumber, “and I’ve never had to announce it before.” 

“It just means we can move onto the more interesting part of the evening,” Quinn said, with a small smile. “Gossiping about boys.” 

Kurt shook his head, and put the slices over his eye. “I just want to be clear that as much as possible, I want to keep Abrams and Hudson out of this conversation.” 

“I don’t know, Artie’s pretty cute,” Tina mumbled, and Quinn scoffed loudly.

“He is not. He is a little sociopath. You’re just not in his blast radius.” She muttered darkly, and Kurt snapped his fingers in agreement. “Yes, I think we avoid those two.” 

“Well, that put us all in a less than stellar mood for boy talk.” Mercedes muttered, but shrugged, “Let’s start on a much safer topic. One I think we can all agree on. A Mr. Samuel Evans.” 

Kurt had never been so happy to have his face covered in a green goop, as it perfectly hid the start of a blush. “What do you mean, we can all agree on?” 

“Oh please, he is handsome, he is funny, he seems... kind, now that he’s not in anyone’s evil gang.” Mercedes ticked off on her fingers. “He wears jeans that hug that butt.”

“It is a good butt,” Quinn said casually, and Kurt put on the cucumber pieces so no-one could see how he glared. “And those muscles. Can we talk about those muscles?” 

“I saw him in a PE class once, and he used his shirt to wipe his face, and I could’ve swooned at that six pack.” Tina whispered, and the girls all giggled. Kurt forced a smile, and then the room fell silent for a moment. “Kurt?”

“Hm?” He asked, not lifting the cucumber slices but turning his head slightly in that direction.

“You planning on joining in?” Mercedes asked curiously, and Kurt tried not to tense up.

“But you’ve all covered it quite well. The muscles, the abs, the ass.” He said casually, glad he didn’t have to make eye contact. He did not want to be thinking about Sam like that whilst the girls were here. “That little smile that makes his eyes all sparkly. He’s a dreamboat, there’s no question about it. He’d make some girl very happy” 

“He’d definitely go on the list,” Quinn said, and there was a beat of pause before she added, “You know, Karofsky is sweeter now that he’s with Puck. And his arms. I bet it would feel amazing when he held you, you know?” 

The silence fell again, and Kurt removed one of the cucumber pieces to glare at them, “I realize we’re bringing up a gay guy for my advantage, but I’m not going to gossip about one of my friends who is in a committed relationship.” He took a beat to stare them all down before settling down again, “So... Mike Chang?” 

“You know, I’ve never had a single negative to say about Chang,” Quinn said, a small smile tugging at her lips, “He’s a little quiet, but he’s not a perv, or too aggressive. He’s sweet.” 

“I...” Tina leant forward and whispered, “I saw him at Asian Camp, and he was doing this dance routine for the kids, with just sweatpants and an unzipped hoodie, and... definitely swoon worthy.” 

Kurt tilted his head, and he knew that everyone probably thought he had gone to some... crude mental image of the shirtless Mike Chang, but he was instead intrigued by the idea of the dance routine. “Quinn, can you sing?” 

“Why?” Quinn lifted her own cucumber slices to frown at him in confusion. 

“We have a fair few performers in our little friendship group. I know myself, Tina and Mercedes can sing. Sam can sing and play guitar, and I know Puckerman can play guitar-” 

“-he can sing too. He’s  _ very  _ charming when he sings,” Quinn said with a flash of a smile.

“And Mike Chang is a dancer. I... don’t know about David, but... It just seems odd that we all found each other.” Kurt shrugged, “Talent attracting Talent perhaps.” 

“Don’t say things like that, or you’ll make Rachel Berry spontaneously appear in your room,” Mercedes pointed aggressively, and Kurt held up his hands in mock surrender.

“I do like to sing,” Quinn admitted quietly, “I used to at least.” 

“Like I said, just interesting.” Kurt sighed, and sat up, pulling out the face wipes. “Alright, let's get cleaned up, and then we can watch something. Moulin Rouge? Rent?” 

“Why are all your musicals so sad,” Mercedes shook her head lightly, almost disappointed, and Quinn let out a beautiful, musical laugh that Kurt couldn’t help but hate her just a little for. “Let’s watch something fun!” Mercedes insisted, breaking Kurt out of his moment.

He rolled his eyes fondly at her, but directed them to his film collection as he removed the mask. They settled into watching an old movie, and sigh wistfully at the romance of it all. Kurt let himself get swept along, and after that one, there was another, and another, and soon Tina and Mercedes were getting calls about curfew. They abandoned the night quickly, but Quinn paused in the hallway, looking down at him with shrewd eyes.

“You’re having a guys night tomorrow?” She asked, and Kurt nodded trying to mask the instant moment of concern as he remembered. “Have you picked out an outfit?” 

“I’ve been told to wear something casual,” Kurt smiled, but if felt tight and strange, “Of course the trick of the matter is whether it’s casual for me, or casual for them.” 

Quinn gave a small, knowing grin, and moved back down Kurt’s stairs, “Oh I understand that frustration. Trust me. Especially because we also want to look good for a... certain someone?” Kurt tried to play off the flinch, but he could see that Quinn had noticed it. She nodded to herself and then glanced towards his wardrobe pointedly. “I can help.” 

“I don’t tend to let other people choose my wardrobe,” Kurt muttered, and Quinn rolled her eyes.

“I think I’ve spent more time around this kind of boy than you. I can tell you what they would wear, and then, I can tell you what I think looks good. I’m just an audience,” Quinn offered quietly, and then paused, and a strange look flitted across her face. “and I’d rather not go home right now.”

Kurt wanted to roll his eyes and point out that the Fabrays lived in the best part of town, in a ridiculously expensive house. But he watched as her hand twitched towards her stomach, and he took a steadying breath. “Well, I don’t know what we’ll find in my wardrobe. I’m not exactly convincing the world that I am Kurt Hummel, womanizer of the stars here.” 

Quinn gave a soft laugh, and shook her head, “Well, I think that if you ever turned your attention that way, you’d make a killing. Girls like a guy who can make them laugh, and cares about their interests. Same way a guy likes those things in a girl. Or a guy.” 

Kurt smiled softly, and then sighed, “Okay. So... let’s fill every teen cliche, and have a makeover montage.” 

Quinn clapped her hands in front of her excitedly, and ushered him towards the wardrobe as she sat back on the couch. “Let’s start with ultra-butch and we can pull it back from there.” 

***

In the end, Kurt ended up with a strong ensemble. The black skinny jeans from the time his dad had met Sam had made a reappearance, but this time matched with a very soft grey Henley that was just long enough that a belt would have been entirely obscured, but floaty enough that Kurt felt the bottom shift as he moved. As Kurt had tried to ensure all the buttons were done up, Quinn had slapped his hands away warningly, and allowed only a single one to be done, so that his collar bone was exposed. His hair was brushed up into a much higher style, with just enough product that it looked slightly tousled like bed-head. 

He woke up early the next morning to ensure that his bedroom was perfect. The beanbag chair he had bought was sat casually next to the couch, as though it saw a reasonable amount of use. The cables for the Wii were all neat and tidy. There were plates and cups on the shelving unit, and Kurt had taken the time to ensure everything that could be described as feminine was safely packaged away in his wardrobe until the day was over.

It was like a grand experiment! Could Kurt convince Mike Chang that he was just one of the guys. A ‘bro’. Someone to drink soda and play video games with. And then maybe, if Mike wasn’t immediately scared off, Kurt could slowly introduce the idea that, whilst yes, he was one of the guys, he could also be someone that someone could take to the movies, or to dinner, or-

Kurt held on to that ember of hope in his chest tightly, refusing to let it die down. McKinley High had been hell for two and half years, but now... maybe that could change. Maybe there was an opportunity for him to hope again. 

Puck was very good at hyping up the other boys for tonight, and Kurt found himself grinning as he was effortlessly included in the conversation. The day sailed past in a blur, and it was only when he was heading out of his final lesson to meet the others that something came along to pop that bubble. 

“Hey, Hummel. Need a favor.” 

The words jolted Kurt out of his daze, and he froze solid in the middle of the hallway, his breath catching in his throat as he caught sight of Hudson and Abrams watching him like foxes watching a chicken. He forced down the panic, and reached down to straighten his shirt. “And you’ve remembered my name this time. How thoughtful.” 

“You’re getting pretty confident if you feel like you can talk back,” Hudson said, pushing off the lockers and stalking closer to him. Kurt’s jaw snapped shut on instinct, and Finn leaned in towards him, “I said, I need a favor.” 

“Well, if I’m not supposed to talk back, and you’re not going to give me any more information, I suppose this conversation is over.” Kurt said, his voice a little too high to appear casual, and took a half-step back, but Hudson filled in the gap before Kurt could extricate himself from the situation.

“I’m asking nicely, Hummel. I’m worried about Fabray.” 

That made Kurt pause again, and he narrowed his eyes, “This is about Quinn?” 

“Look, she has this way of getting into your head,” Hudson muttered, and then rolled his eyes, “You wouldn’t understand, obviously. But she’s bad news, especially for Puck. I can’t ask any of the guys in your gang to watch them, and I’m not gonna bully two girls, so-” 

“So what does that leave me as?” Kurt asked, trying to fake the confidence that had previously come so easily with Sam and Dave, “If I’m not a guy or a girl?” 

“You really want me to answer that?” Hudson muttered, but the look on his face made it clear that he felt it was obvious. Kurt flinched, but Hudson didn’t seem to notice. “I mean, you’re closer to a girl, but I don’t feel bad about bullying you.” 

“Well, at least you have a moralistic streak somewhere in there.” Kurt muttered, and stepped back. “Puckerman is my friend, so I will look out for him in that respect, but not because you felt the need to strong arm me with your opinion.” 

“Puck isn’t your friend,” Hudson rolled his eyes, “He’s my friend, and at some point he’s going to realize that you’re like... poisonous. He’ll miss the life he had before, and you’ll be to blame for making them all think that this bullshit is okay.” 

“The word you’re thinking of is ‘Toxic’,” Kurt muttered without thinking, as he tried to force the venom of Hudson’s words out of his mind before they took root. Hudson scoffed, and walked away quickly with Abrams in tow. 

He hadn’t managed to unlatch the barbs by the time he met with the boys at the front of the school, but he was used to pushing on a calm facade. He smiled at the correct times, and rolled his eyes at the more groan worthy jokes, but his mind was stuck on what had been said.

Obviously life wouldn’t have been better for Dave if things hadn’t shaken out without his interruption except... Well Dave had already had Sam talking him through his sexuality crisis. If Kurt hadn’t blackmailed Sam, then maybe Sam would be in a happy relationship with whatever girl he wanted. Puck would still be sleeping his way through all the eligible girls at the school, happy as could be. The two of them, Hudson and Abrams would still be best friends, surviving high school together. Maybe even inviting Dave into their group, though he’d be in the closet like Sam. 

And who did he think he was kidding anyway. Kurt wasn’t a part of  _ this  _ group. He was a glorified charity project to Puckerman, because Puck wanted to be with Dave, who felt like he owed Sam for giving him a place to live, and the only reason Sam gave Kurt a chance was because Kurt had originally threatened to ruin his life. He had no right to expect them to like him, or even want him around. 

“Hummel?” 

He blinked and glanced up, looking around curiously at the other boys who were staring at him. He’d clearly missed some part of the conversation, and so he just shrugged helplessly, and tried not to wince when Puck rolled his eyes. “I said, how are we getting to your house?” 

“You could all fit in the Navigator.” Kurt said casually, gesturing to his baby. “Unless you have rides you need to drive over. “

“Nah, we can all take yours.” Puck nodded, and then threw an arm around Sam, dragging him towards the car. Mike gave Kurt a small smile, but it was nowhere near enough to cut through the thick tar that was starting to build up inside Kurt. Still, Mike managed to call shotgun, and Kurt was quickly in the midst of driving everyone to his home.

Another layer of bone numbing panic came when Puck complained about the quiet, and Kurt turned on the car radio, only to remember a moment too late that he had been listening to musicals loudly on his way to school. Puck immediately began to bitch about it, and Mike easily leaned in and turned down the volume and switched to a more casual pop station when it was clear that Kurt couldn’t drive and change all the settings at the same time. 

Kurt had to unlock the front door when they arrived, and he was halfway down the steps, offering a breezy casual introduction to his room when he froze and nearly got knocked the rest of the way down by the rapidly approaching Dave. 

“Uh, Kurt...?” Dave said softly, and Kurt swallowed heavily, unable to answer, “There’s... a lot of tiaras on your bed.” 

“I can see that, David,” Kurt said tightly, his eyes moving over to his closet where the door was slightly ajar. The small chest he usually kept them in was nowhere to be seen, and as Kurt quickly moved to look in the closet, he found the whole thing in disarray.

“Were you... reverse-robbed by a princess?” Mike asked, and Kurt could see him reaching for-

“Don’t touch that!”

Everyone flinched away from him, and Kurt forced himself to take several deep breaths, before he tried to find words. But he couldn’t find any, at all, for a minute or two, before he pulled everything together again. “Sam, you know my house the best. There’s a plastic box under the sink in the kitchen. Can you go and get that for me?” Sam nodded and jogged back up the stairs, before Kurt turned his attention to the others. “The... TV and stuff is over there. Maybe you should set up the games and I’ll... I’ll be with you shortly.” 

The other three moved more sluggishly, more nervously, but Kurt couldn’t care right now, as he quickly checked all the tiaras for any damage, or missing crystals, trying not to shake with frustration. Sam returned with the box, and tried to meet Kurt’s eye, but Kurt couldn’t, instead focusing on putting all the tiaras as carefully as he could into the box and sealing it. 

Once it was safely back in the wardrobe, Kurt thought the frustration would pass, but Puck was still side-eyeing him, and so Kurt slumped into the beanbag chair and just watched them all play. They were all having a great time, but Kurt couldn’t focus enough to even begin to unspool all the emotions in his gut. He was almost ready to call off the whole night, when Mike went to the bathroom and instead of returning to the couch, sat down on the ground next to him. 

“I’m sorry I tried to touch your stuff, I should’ve asked,” He said, and Kurt was suddenly aware of how close the other teen was. 

“It- That specific one was not mine. It belonged to my mother. My dad must have needed the chest we keep them in for something urgent, and forgot I was having people over.” Kurt whispered, the only other person close enough to hear him maybe being Sam who was leaning on the closest end of the couch, shooting at Virtual Zombies ferociously, “I... don’t have a lot of things that were mine and hers. I know it isn’t particularly masculine to hold onto things like that-” 

“What does it matter if it’s masculine?” Mike said softly, shrugging when Kurt didn’t immediately answer, “If it’s how you remember your mom, then that’s all the reason you need. Hell, even if you just like tiaras, I’m glad you have something you like.” 

Kurt felt some of the anxiety fade away, and he relaxed a little into the beanbag chair, “I doubt Puck would see it the same way.” 

“Screw Puck,” Mike grinned, shaking his head, “You’re Kurt. Not Puck. We do  _ not  _ need another Puck.” 

“You’ve said my name three times, so that’s basically summoning me, right?” Puck called from across the room, and Mike rolled his eyes almost as dramatically as Kurt could have. It made Kurt smile a little, and they turned their attention back towards the TV. They played a little longer, before Puck called over, “You got any food?” 

“Yeah, I prepared some food.” Kurt said, standing up and brushing himself down, frustration beginning to lay over the hurt as Puck tried to boss him around in his own house. “If I bring it down, and any of you have your feet on the table though, it’s all going to be my food though.” 

He quickly made his way upstairs, and turned on the oven, throwing the things that needed to be finished off in there. Whilst that was getting ready, he quickly prepared the other bits and pieces, and tapped his foot impatiently until the timer was done. Loading it all onto one large tray, he quickly made his way back downstairs, and gave a pleased grin when he didn’t have to kick up a fuss.

“So, I made nachos for the main finger food, but I remember Mary saying that Sam was partial to vegetable sticks and dips. I know that David has a sweet tooth, so I made some butterscotch flavored muffins. I have more upstairs, but if my dad is anything to go by, if I bring it all down at once then it’ll all be gone at once.

“You made all this?” Mike asked, staring at the food with wide eyes. 

“I enjoy cooking,” Kurt shrugged casually, “I decided against an actual meal, but if this isn’t filling enough I can-” 

“This is amazing,” Sam nodded sharply, and took a vegetable stick and dipped it.

“Seriously, you’re gonna make some dude the happiest dude on earth one day,” David said, reaching for the muffins. “How did you know that I liked butterscotch?” 

“I pay attention,” Kurt shrugged, and watched as Puck and Mike helped themselves to some nachos. They were both enjoying the food too, which was fantastic since Kurt had had no idea what to make them. As they ate, Kurt took the time to refill drinks, and finish straightening up the mess that had been left behind from the tiara situation. 

“Are you not having any?” Mike’s voice called from the couch, and Kurt waved him off lightly. 

"I'm good." He said, his voice a little light. Honestly, the nerves wouldn't be particularly conducive to eating right now, and then he'd have to sit there and work out if he should take his usual dainty bites, and risk Puck's frustration, or take bigger bites and risk looking disgusting.

"Are you getting ready to show off again?" Sam asked casually, another vegetable stick in hand. "Because the cooking is more than impressive."

"What're you talking about?" Mike asked curiously, turning towards Sam.

Sam was clearly ready to extol his virtues, shuffling forward on the couch, "Dude, Kurt is amazing. He can do like all these gymnastics and knife-"

"Sword," Kurt quietly interrupted on instinct.

"Sword stuff. He's an amazing singer, and he just occasionally reveals another skill that we didn't even know about." Sam listed off easily, with obvious excitement. "Kurt, you should show Mike and Puck."

Kurt tried not to look at Puck, and instead focused on smoothing out his bed. "I don't know where I put my Sai Swords," he lied easily, "and I can't get the full range of movement required in these pants."

"Maybe you should go put on a skirt then," Puck muttered, and Kurt felt the small balloon of hurt he'd been carrying since Hudson ambushed him burst. But for once, it didn’t make him want to retreat, or just fold under the pressure. Rather than fear, it was a surge of righteous anger that followed.

"Maybe I will!" He snapped back and stalked into his closet. The jeans took some shimmying to remove, but the leggings rolled up easily enough. The skirt was smaller than it had been a couple of years ago when he had loudly professed that fashion didn't have a gender, barely reaching halfway to his knee, but Kurt put it on anyway, and set his phone up to play the instrumental of the song.

Seconds later, he burst out of his closet, taking no small delight in the look of total surprise on Puckerman’s face and immediately began to sing. He could almost see himself performing on the McKinley High Stage, spotlights blazing and band in the background, as he moved gracefully from spot to spot.

_ Whether I'm right or whether I'm wrong _

_ Whether I find a place in this world or never belong _

_ I gotta be me, I've gotta be me _

_ What else can I be but what I am _

_ I want to live, not merely survive _

_ And I won't give up this dream _

_ Of life that keeps me alive _

_ I gotta be me, I gotta be me _

_ The dream that I see makes me what I am _

_ That far away prize, a world of success _

_ Is waiting for me if I heed the call _

_ I won't settle down, won't settle for less _

_ As long as there's a chance that I can have it all _

_ I'll go it alone, that's how it must be _

_ I can't be right for somebody else _

_ If I'm not right for me _

_ I gotta be free, I've gotta be free _

_ Daring to try, to do it or die _

_ I've gotta be me _

_ I'll go it alone, that's how it must be _

_ I can't be right for somebody else _

_ If I'm not right for me _

_ I gotta be free, I just gotta be free _

_ Daring to try, to do it or die _

_ I gotta be me _

He didn't even remember how the Sai Swords got into his hands by the end, though Dave was standing next to their hiding spot looking amused and impressed. In fact everyone was applauding, except for Puck, who just looked mildly shell shocked. It passes quickly though, and suddenly Kurt was aware he was just a boy in a skirt, as Puck rapidly approached him, eyes wide.

"New plan," Puck whispered, his eyes raking over Kurt. For his part, Kurt was very glad for the sharpish blades he was holding in case this went wrong, although they said that you had to be careful carrying weapons so they weren't used against you. Puck seemed to get a hold of himself and added, "More of that. Definitely more of that. No dude who is even remotely attracted to dudes is gonna say no after that."

"Oh." Kurt blinked and casually flipped the Sai Swords so that the point was resting against his forearm. Puck's eyes flickered to the motion and he breathed out a silent 'badass'

"Alright, let's get Puck sat down, since we just found out gymnastic in skirts is his weak point." Sam said with false casualness, moving Puck to the couch with firm hands. 

Dave was already there, and he rolled his eyes at Puck, nudging his elbow lightly. "I'm not wearing a skirt, and I do not do gymnastics. If that's a deal breaker, you better be up front with me."

Puck blinked and then a lazy smirk slipped across his face, "Sure, you can't do that, but you can-” he leaned in and began to whisper, and Dave turned red very quickly after. Kurt chose to ignore their antics and put away the Swords before collapsing back on to the sofa and taking Puck's controller whilst he was distracted.

The guy's night didn't last much longer though. Whatever Puck and Dave had been whispering had clearly riled them both up enough that they had to go to Puck's house to... deal with the situation. Mike and Sam hung out for another hour, but Kurt could hear his dad return, and Mike had homework, so Kurt walked him out.

At the doorstep, Mike paused and turned towards Kurt with a small, bashful grin, and Kurt's heart skipped a beat. This was it. The fairy tale moment.

"You're a really cool guy, Kurt. I'm glad we got to hang out." Mike said softly, and Kurt nodded, trying not to move too quickly. It felt like this opportunity was a scared animal that might startle at any moment.

"Me too. Perhaps next time I can work out what your favorite food is and prepare that." He said, trying to sound casual.

Mike nodded and then his smile drifted a little as his face got more serious, "I kind of feel like I shouldn't ask this..."

"I'm sure it won't be as bad as the things Puck has felt constitutes polite conversation." Kurt offered and Mike let out an adorable laugh.

"You... get along well with the girls right? Like, you talk with them and hang out with them?" 

Kurt nodded slowly, unsure of how Mike intended to get from this topic to any of the ones Kurt was hoping to hear.

"Does... Tina ever mention me?"

_ Ah. _

Kurt smiled through the sharp pain in his chest, and put a hand on his hip, trying for casual. "You expect me to break the sacred bonds of sisterhood, Mr. Chang. What kind of man do you take me for."

Mike laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, ducking his head a little. "I know, I just like her, and when we were both Councillors at camp last year I thought there was something there. I even did this dance routine, basically shirtless, and she was into it... but when we got back to McKinley... nothing."

"Well," Kurt could feel that his smile had slipped into the uncanny valley but he couldn't save it at the moment, "I'll lay some groundwork, and we can come up with a plan."

"You're gonna help?" Mike asked, his eyes soft, and Kurt couldn't help but sigh gently in return.

"From what I understand we're 'bros' now, right?" He offered, and Mike nodded enthusiastically, "Then it's my job to help out my 'bro'."

"That's awesome!" Mike leaned in and wrapped Kurt in a tight hug for a moment before pulling back, "and I'll totally help you with Sam."

Kurt blinked, “What?”

“Yeah, this isn’t a one way street,” Mike grinned, squeezing Kurt’s shoulder, “We could double date!” 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m stuck on you saying, helping me with’-” Kurt looked over his shoulder, in case Sam had come up the stairs whilst he was distracted, “-helping me with Sam.” 

Mike paused, and his eyebrows pulled together in mild concern, “Have I been reading the signs wrong? I thought you were into him.” 

Kurt gaped at Mike for a moment, and couldn’t help but look back over his shoulder again, “There aren’t any signs.”

“I mean, there kind of are.” Mike shrugged almost apologetically, “You got really jealous when Quinn started coming to eat with us. You always make sure Quinn is not sitting next to Sam.” 

“That makes me sound like some Machiavellian mastermind. That’s just how our seating arrangements ended up.” Kurt rolled his eyes, and tried not to see the truth in Mike’s assessment, but caught Mike grinning, “What?”

“You’re not saying you’re not jealous.”

“I-” Kurt took a deep breath, and checked for Sam once more before he turned to Mike, “Listen, I’ll tell you because you’ve never been awful to me, and because if you ever say anything I’ll deny it entirely, and do everything in my power to keep you and Tina apart.” Kurt said, half jabbing a finger at Mike, “But yes. Sam is kind, and obviously attractive, and I think I really could like him. But that’s never going to happen, because he obviously doesn’t think that way about me.” 

“Wow...” Mike shook his head disbelievingly, “Alright, cool, I’m the guy who’s totally on the outside of this, so I’m the only one who can say this, right? That’s why Dave and Puck haven’t told you?” 

“What are you talking about?” Kurt muttered, folding his arms defensively.

“Kurt, Sam definitely likes you.” Mike’s face was entirely serious, but had the same look that Kurt had seen on parents trying to explain a really obvious concept to children. Kurt shook his head lightly, and Mike reached out to touch Kurt’s arm. “I’ve literally not got through a single conversation with him, since he fought with Hudson, where you haven’t come up. He thinks you’re amazing.” 

“No, he...” Kurt tried to wave off the suggestion. “He said that he wasn’t dating Quinn because he liked someone else, and that was long before the fight with Hudson.” 

“Yeah. I’m going to guess it was  _ you _ , Kurt,” Mike said, with a fond look, and Kurt’s felt something in the back of his mind shift, like someone had put a branch in a series of gears, and they all been held in place for a long time, before the branch snapped and everything surged back to life. 

“Dave knew.” Kurt said after a moment. “When he said that he was sure someone liked me, but were too scared to say anything, he was talking about-” 

“Probably.” 

“And Puck definitely knew I liked Sam, that’s why the guy in the video- and the email about it being the blonde-” Kurt blinked rapidly, trying to put it all together, “and all the things about me being interested in football players... Did  _ everyone  _ know about this but me?” 

Mike grinned, and pat Kurt’s arm once more, “I think they were just trying to let you work it out in your own time.” 

“Puck was definitely pushing for me to seduce you...” Kurt muttered, narrowing his eyes, “Does he think it won’t work out with me and Sam?” 

“I’m not a mind reader,” Mike shrugged, and then tilted his head, “but he could’ve been trying to make Sam jealous, to make him make a move. If Dave knew that Sam liked you, he’s probably mentioned it to Puck by now.” 

“Oh god,” Kurt buried his face in his hands for a moment, “He’s still down stairs. I need a plan.” 

“Can I offer some advice?” Mike said carefully. “Just ask him. No plan, no costumes or anything else, just ask him on a date.” 

Kurt lifted his head, and glanced at Mike, “I... there’s a lot of history, I couldn’t...” 

“History informs our choices. It doesn’t make them for us.” Mike said, and then shrugged, “Also, if it goes  _ really  _ well, you’re already in your bedroom.” 

“Mike Chang,” Kurt’s gasp of surprise was much too high, but Mike just laughed lightly, and made his way down the bath, giving Kurt a wave as he vanished down the street. Kurt took another deep breath, and then closed the door. He collected the second portion of Nachos and Vegetable sticks, packaging them up in some Tupperware containers and writing down the cooking instructions for the Nachos before headily downstairs. 

There was no sign that there had ever been a party down here, everything put back in its proper place. Sam sat casually on the edge of the sofa, on his phone, and when Kurt reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked up and smiled. “Thought I’d be a good guest and help clean up.” 

“You didn’t have to-” Kurt started, and then let out a huff of air as he stopped himself from sounding ungrateful, “Thank you.” 

“It’s no problem,” Sam shrugged, “Your song was amazing. I was really impressed.” 

“You’re too kind,” Kurt said, and tried to work out how to broach the subject “I... I thought you could take these leftovers home for you and Stacy and Stevie.” 

“That’s awesome.” Sam grinned, and stood up, moving up to Kurt to take the bag. “Is that a hint I should go?” 

“No!” 

Sam blinked at Kurt’s sharp response, and paused, both their hands on the bag. “Okay? I won’t go then?” 

“No, I mean...” Kurt huffed in frustration, “Fine. I need to ask you something, and I need you not to laugh at me, or murder me, if the answer is no. And I need to know you’re not lying if you say yes.” 

“I won’t lie to you,” Sam said, his voice going quiet, “and I’d never want to hurt you.” 

“Okay.” Kurt nodded, “It has been implied by several people that... I mean, Mike, at the door, said-” he swallowed heavily, and looked up at Sam’s green eyes. “Do you like me?”

“Yes.” Sam said, with a small nod, his features entirely too neutral.

It only made Kurt more anxious and frustrated, “No, I mean, do you  _ Like  _ me? Like, are you-” 

“Kurt, yes. However you mean it, I like you.” Sam said, shifting his hand lightly on the bag so their fingers touched. “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry?” Kurt frowned, pulling back a little. Sam’s eyes dropped to his feet, and there was a long moment.

“You made it really clear you weren’t interested in me. And that’s fine, but I don’t want to lie to you. So, if it’s a problem-” 

“When did I make it clear I wasn’t interested?” Kurt asked, his eyes going wide.

“Pretty much right here, a couple of months ago?” Sam said, his eyebrows pulling closer together. “I tried to kiss you-” 

“You kissed me, there was no try about it,” Kurt muttered, his cheeks turning red.

“Then, I kissed you, and you pushed me away. You told me that you didn’t want me.” Sam muttered, letting go of the bag of food, and moving a few steps away. “And that’s fine. I’m happy to just be your friend.” 

“I said I didn’t want you to kiss me because I was paying you, or blackmailing you.” Kurt insisted, putting the bag on the table, so that he had both hands free. “Because I felt like I was forcing you to be nice to me. I didn’t want to coerce you into a relationship because you felt scared and unsafe.” 

“Kurt-” Sam sighed, and shook his head, “Then when I sang for you at the apartment, and tried to ask you on a date-” 

“That was you asking me on a date?” Kurt blinked, “How was I supposed to know that?” 

“I invited you to a gay bar. I feel like that’s pretty obvious,” Sam snorted, in amusement. ”Then when David moved in, I told him, in front of you, that you had turned me down. That didn't clue you in? Saying I'd be lucky to have a guy like you? It hurt a lot to hear you say that the kiss didn't count for anything. You asked me what my type was, and I totally described you." 

Kurt frowned, remembering, "I'm not bossy." 

"You can be. It's hot." Sam laughed, "I told Dave that night about liking you, and he said I needed to shoot my shot. He wouldn't accept that I'd already tried and you said no. He kept trying though. Getting us to sit closer and closer together-"

"It was impossible to focus on the game with you next to me. But then I felt like a creep, because you had said you liked someone. Who, it has been suggested, was apparently me?" 

"Yeah." Sam nodded jerkily, "And then you said that you would find a group for me and the guy I liked, and until then we'd just do this. Dave gave me such crap about that all the way home. And he was furious when I didn't defend you against Hudson in the hall." 

"Then when Puckerman came over, you were going to beat him up for kissing me." Kurt said, remembering that night vividly, and then remembered the next day. "Why did you decide to record Hudson after the thing with Dave?" 

"Because I realised when we confronted Puck that it was more important that I help you instead of protecting myself." Sam said, glancing at his feet again. "When that brawl started in the hallway...I just froze. I couldn't-" 

"Hey," Kurt said, moving to Sam's side and reaching to touch his shoulder, "I always made it clear that I didn't want anyone to get hurt for me-" 

"I'm not a good guy, Kurt. I got scared," Sam shook his head sharply, "I wanted to help, but I saw you and Dave getting attacked, and I couldn't move. I ran away. When Dave came home, I was ready to let him beat me up. I felt like I deserved it. But he just packed a bag, and... told me I was worse than Hudson. That at least Finn hadn't tried to convince you he was your friend before he tore your heart out." 

Kurt flinched at that, and looked away.

"I spent hours thinking about how I'd failed you. And I hated myself, because a part of me wanted you to use the confession I made to make them stop and to get back at me for doing nothing, but I knew you wouldn't... So I took a page out of your book, and made my own confession. Take the gun out of your hand and use it myself." 

"And even after that, I told you we were friends."

"Your exact words were 'Just Friends.'" Sam shrugged, "So I took a step back."

"I thought you liked Quinn," Kurt said, pulling away from Sam and throwing his hands up. "You wanted her to sit with us." 

"So did you!" Sam shot back.

"Well, I'm not interested in women." Kurt gestured emphatically back. 

"I had already said I was into someone else, and you were suddenly focused on Mike-" 

"Because you were unavailable, and Puck pointed out that I feel safer with sexual things when I'm friends with a person. So I was trying to learn how to be friends with guys." 

"You're already friends with guys," Sam said, running his hand through his hair.

"God, let's not go over the girls day I had. And the one I'm going to have to have to try and get Tina and Mike together." Kurt shook his head, "We're up to date on miscommunications. Sam Evans. I like you. I enjoy spending time with you, and you're obviously the hottest guy I've ever met, so if you ever want to go on a date with me when I'm not blackmailing you, I'm on board. I'm  _ really  _ on board." 

"Kurt, I like you too," Sam laughed, shaking his head, "I've liked you ever since you forced me to accept that cup of coffee in your kitchen, that you were so kind to someone who was an asshole to you. And it just grew from there. You're amazing, in every way. So- Yes. I would like to go on a date with you. If we're talking about things we want, I also really want to kiss you. But only if you want that too." 

Kurt took a quick breath, and then crossed the distance between them, his heart hammering in his chest. Sam’s eyes went wide, but his grin reassured Kurt that it was okay for him to lean forward and catch his lips in a kiss. Sam returned it with the same passion, but perhaps a little more experience, and Kurt was more confident to put his hands on Sam’s chest, and lean into it a little more. 

Too quickly there was a cough at the top of the stairs, and Kurt pulled back a little dazed, to see his dad looking down. 

“We have a sock on the door policy, Kurt. But the idea is to do it before you start.” Burt snorted, and gestured to Sam. “You’re gonna have to come for dinner as Kurt’s boyfriend, so I can grill you on your intentions.” 

“Yes sir,” Sam said, nodding sharply. 

“Get used to saying that,” Burt said, before he stepped out of the room, and closed the door with a definitive click. 

The two of them turned back to each other, and Kurt couldn’t help the small bubble of laughter that fought it’s way out. Sam shook his head, and pulled Kurt into a tight hug. “How long do you think your dad thinks we’ve been dating.” 

“He knows I wouldn’t be able to hide it.” Kurt said, leaning into the warmth, “If I had been with you, I’d have been too happy about everything.” 

“You always know the best thing to say,” Sam muttered, and then pulled back, “Are we? Boyfriends, I mean?”

“If you want to be?” Kurt asked, suddenly a little nervous.

“Of course I want to be!” Sam said, grinning brightly. ”At least we know my parents love you already.”

“Oh, my dad likes you.” Kurt rolled his eyes, “I expect just as thorough a grilling on my intentions from Dwight and Mary. If we’re going with archaic traditions, I will not be treat like that girl.” 

“Of course,” Sam nodded seriously, “I mean, not the archaic tradition thing. I mean, I’m not going to treat you like a girl. You’re my boyfriend.” 

“I mean...” Kurt narrowed his eyes lightly, and shrugged, “Maybe we play into some stereotypes. If you wanted to... I don’t know, lend me your letterman jacket on a cold day-” 

“Oh-” Sam blinked, and then a big lazy grin spread across his face, “Yeah. We could totally do that. But then we’ve got to think of something chivalrous you can do for me.”

“Maybe I’ll just save you from whatever product you’re damaging your hair with. That’s heroic right?” Kurt teased lightly, and Sam let out a mock offended gasp. “Was I not supposed to notice?” 

“It’s just lemon juice,” Sam rolled his eyes. “I see how this is going to be. You’re going to get meaner, aren’t you?” 

“I thought you liked your partner's bossy.” Kurt said, taking a half step forward, and then thinking better of it, stepped away. “That last kiss counted, in every way. But I don’t think you get another until I get a date.” 

“Ooh, tough bargain,” Sam grinned, “Not even if I sing you a song?” 

“It’s unfair when you know my weak points, and I don’t know a single one of yours,” Kurt sniffed delicately, though he couldn’t help but smile. 

“You. You’re my biggest weak-point, and everything you do.” Sam said softly, and with such confidence that Kurt wanted nothing more than to kiss him again right here. 

“And I’m the one who knows the right thing to say?” Kurt stepped closer, and then shook his head, “Why am I trying to convince myself I need to wait to kiss you again.” 

“Beats me.” Sam grinned, and ducked in for a quick kiss, before pulling back. “Maybe that’ll help?”

“Okay, you need to go home, before we spend all night making out.” Kurt said, but quickly leaned it to kiss Sam again.

“A tempting offer, but you’re right.” Sam said, and took two large steps back, picking up the food and holding it in front of him almost like a shield. “Are we... Okay, so I’m not going to be able to stop grinning, so my mom and dad are definitely going to know. Are we telling everyone? Because-” 

“I mean... if you’re not embarrassed of me.” Kurt shrugged, his eyes flicking away. “It’s not going to be fun for you when you come out.” 

“I think it’s going to be very fun for me when I come out. My boyfriend has this great idea about spending all night making out.” Sam grinned and then paused to consider, “I want to tell our friends. Everyone else can work it out on their own, for all I care.” 

“I call Mike and the Girls.” Kurt held up a hand like he was calling dibs, and Sam narrowed his eyes.

“That’s just so that I have to deal with Dave saying I told you so.”

“Oh, and so you have to deal with Puck trying to give you the sex advice talk.” Kurt nodded enthusiastically. “You should get on that.” 

“Bossy.” Sam muttered, but grinned, and glanced at the bag. “I’ll let you know my siblings' verdicts on the food.” 

“If they don’t like it, you’ll just have to lie and say that you really enjoyed it.” Kurt said, walking towards the stairs slowly. 

“Wouldn’t be a lie.” Sam assured. “Maybe... don’t walk me to the door? Cause if you do, we’re gonna kiss on the doorstep for five minutes, and then Burt’s really going to hate me.” 

Kurt shook his head with a light laugh, and stepped back again. “Okay. So... tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow.” Sam said, with a sharp nod. Kurt watched his new boyfriend climb the stairs, before moving to collapse onto his bed with a happy grin. 

He wasn’t sure how much longer it was before his dad knocked on his bedroom door and began loudly making his way down the stairs. Kurt pulled himself upright, and as Burt got to the bottom of the stairs, he rolled his eyes fondly. “Got something you want to tell me, Kurt?” 

“I have a boyfriend.” He said, feeling his grin grow. “And I have friends who like me, and want to make plans with me, and- Things aren’t perfect, Dad. But, I think I’m honestly... really happy.” 

“Good.” Burt said, with a small nod. “You know all I want is for you to be happy.” 

Kurt blinked, and then quickly climbed off the bed to grab his dad in a tight hug. His dad returned it easily as Kurt buried his face in the denim of his dad’s jacket. They stayed like that for a moment, his dad’s hand a warm pressure on his back before he slowly pulled back. He could see that Mike had left one of his games, and he knew that he could just hang it to him at lunch. He could see where one of Mercedes’ nail varnishes had rolled under one of the nearby cabinets, and knew he could just hold onto it until the next girls night. He was still wearing the skirt, and his dad hadn’t said a thing about it. 

At the start of the year, he had felt broken. Now... 

He looked at his dad with a new confidence and smiled.

“I am happy. Things are going to be better now.” 


	5. Epilogue

"Mike, swap seats with me," Kurt announced somewhat imperiously as he approached the table. The other teen glanced up from his food, and then looked around pointedly at all the empty seats at the table. When Kurt was clearly unmoved by the obvious, he shuffling down one so that Kurt could sit next to Sam. "Thank you."

"It's the cute honeymoon phase. I'm not getting in the way of that," Mike said, with a small grin. Sam grinned too, and Kurt could feel Sam nudging his knee under the table as he offered Kurt some of the vegetable sticks from yesterday. Kurt took one politely, and began to nibble on it as Tina approached the table and looked at the available seats. One between Quinn and David, that Puck would usually fill, and one between Mike and Mercedes. It was clear which one she would choose, and Kurt grinned to himself as the two of them slipped into place.

"Tina, do you remember that conversation we had... a year ago." Kurt said, shifting so he could look past Mike to look at Tina. "About Beyonce?" 

"We wanted to learn the 'Single Ladies' dance," Tina said, grinning to herself. "But we needed a third person, who was a better dancer." 

"Mercedes wasn't interested, and I doubt we'd convince Quinn or David," Kurt said casually, but gave Quinn and Mercedes a pointed look. "So I think I found a third." 

"Sam?" Tina blinked, glancing at the blonde.

"Uh, I could try-" Sam started, and Kurt kicked his ankle as gently as possible. He quickly changed his tone, shaking his head emphatically, "But I'm so busy, all the time. So busy, doing things and stuff." 

"Then-" Tina blinked at the outburst, and turned towards Kurt, "Who did you convince?"

"Our very own dancing coach," Kurt said brightly, reaching over to pat Mike on the shoulder. "Mike is a fantastic dancer, right?" 

"I...like to dance," Mike said slowly, narrowing his eyes at Kurt, "But I don't know that dance." 

"Well, I'm sure you can pick it up quickly," Kurt said brightly, and then gestured, "Maybe you and Tina can watch it on her phone, and see if you think you can pick it up?"

"I could do that," Tina said softly, holding up some earphones, "If it won't be too boring?" 

"No. No, it sounds like fun," Mike said, a small smile pulling at his lips as he turned to look at Tina. The two of them were quickly absorbed into the video, and Kurt watched them lean closer together and hold half the phone each. Quinn tilted her head, and then gave him an approving nod, that Kurt returned with a bright grin. 

Sam grinned too, and leant in to mutter, "You're an evil mastermind, you know that?"

"I object to the evil part," Kurt muttered back, grinning despite himself, and trying not to lean into Sam's personal zone. 

"All the best supervillains do," Sam cocked an eyebrow at him, and leaned away again. "So, Dave. Do you have any secret performing ambitions?" 

"No." Dave said, pointing a fry from his plate threateningly at Sam. "I see what's happening at this table, and I am against it. I don't dance."

"I'm just saying, in a different world, I know exactly the musical number that I'd drag us all into here," Kurt offered casually.

"High School Musical 2?" Mercedes offered, and Kurt clicked and pointed at her. "We're too in synch." 

"You're both menaces." Dave narrowed his eyes, at the rest of the table, "Quinn, you're on my side here right?"

"I'll have you know, I sing like an angel," Quinn shrugged casually. 

"Then I'll just sit here and be the voice of reason." Dave rolled his eyes and went back to his food, glancing at his phone every few moments. 

The conversation turned towards sports for Dave and Sam, likely an attempt by Sam to distract Dave from the missing Puck, so Kurt turned his attention to the rest of the room. There was nothing too interesting, until his eyes skated over the football table, and his eyes locked with Hudson's. The other boy held his gaze for a moment, and then lifted his phone and pointed at it aggressively. Kurt frowned and turned back towards the day, pulling out his phone to make sure it was still there. Moments later a message appeared, from an unknown number.

**_???: Where is Puck?_ **

Kurt frowned, and turned back over his shoulder to look at Hudson, who made a frustrated questioning gesture. Kurt sighed, and turned back to the table, offering Sam a smile when he looked at Kurt concernedly. "Just texting my dad." He said brightly, his phones tapping out a message as casually as he could.

_ Kurt: Where did you get my number? _

**_???: Berry. Where's Puck? Is he hurt?_ **

Kurt rolled his eyes as hard as he could, as he typed a response.

_ Kurt: Why do you want to know? He's not with Quinn, so there's no problem. _

**_???: Puck's my best friend. I'm allowed to worry._ **

_ Kurt: And it doesn't upset you that your best friend is hanging out with the school fag?  _

**_???: I'm not talking to you about that. I just wanted to know he was okay._ **

Kurt rolled his eyes, and glanced towards Dave. “Where’s Puck?”

“Oh, he needed to try and get an extension on his Spanish essay.” Dave shrugged casually, and he certainly didn’t seem concerned. 

_ Kurt: Apparently he’s with Shue. Don’t text me again. _

He glanced over his shoulder again to level a glare at Hudson, but the other boy didn’t react. In fact he was already halfway out of his seat, and Kurt pulled in a sharp breath. He didn’t know what was happening. Maybe Hudson was just leaving, he’d certainly not taken Abrams with him, but at the same time Kurt couldn’t leave Puck on his own. “I... need to get something from my locker.” 

“I’ll come with you?” Sam suggested, and Kurt wanted to say yes, but he shook his head lightly.

“I’ll be fine. Back before you know it.” He assured, and walked as casually as he could away from the table. He didn’t run in the halls either, which gave Hudson the advantage on getting ahead with his freakish gait. By the time Kurt had safely found his way to the Spanish room, neither of them were there. Just Shuester hiding a suspicious flask. So Kurt started making his way back towards the cafeteria, checking each room. 

It was the sewing room that Kurt finally found them in, and he pushed the door open lightly as the two of them sat facing each other in red chairs. “Is... everything okay?” 

“Get out, Hummel,” Hudson snapped, and Puck’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t talk to him like that.” 

“Jesus, Puck-” Hudson threw up his hands in exasperation, “I don’t get it! I don’t! I’m trying.” 

“I don’t get what’s hard to get, Hudson. They are my friends.” Puck gestured towards Kurt. “My friends and my boyfriend.” 

“I’m not his boyfriend,” Kurt said quickly, and Puck shot him a look, “What? You’re pointing at me, and I have a very low expectation of his intelligence.” 

Hudson moved as if to stand, and then he glanced at Puck and sat down hard. “I’m not dumb.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and folded his arms, muttering under his breath. "Could’ve fooled me.” 

“And what happened to the deal?” Hudson snapped, “You were supposed to keep Puck and Quinn apart.” 

Puck turned to look at Kurt sharply, and Kurt held up his hands, “I didn’t agree to anything! You threatened me in the hallway. That was it.” 

Hudson’s mouth flapped for a moment, and then he turned to Puck, “She’s bad news! She ruined our friendship, she lied about the baby, and then-” 

“Quinn didn’t ruin our friendship,” Puck rolled his eyes, “I think you beating me up about Quinn might’ve been a part of it, but it was definitely Abrams.”

“Artie’s a good guy,” Finn waved his hand as though warding off the words.

“No, he’s really not.” Puck shook his head, “He... god, Finn when we were kids you were always the leader. You had this sense of what was right and what was wrong, and you saw the best in people. And then Abrams came along, and he’s always whispering in your ear.” 

“Come on, you were always the one telling me to do stuff. You’re the one who suggested we toss pee balloons at Hummel.” 

“Because you were supposed to say no, Finn!” Puck scoffed.

“I think you’re underestimating what you could talk me into.” Finn muttered, looking away, “Artie included or not.”

“You never used to call people fags. You never talked like you were going to round up a gang to run someone out of town. You never tried to kick someone who was down.” Puck frowned and shuffled his feet on the ground. “Is that what you think about me? That I'm a fag?” 

“What? No. You’re my best friend. You’re not like-” Hudson made a vague gesture towards Kurt, which definitely stung, but Kurt tried not to react. “-that.” 

“Oh, I’m pretty similar to Kurt.” Puck said, leaning forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes, “I love sucking dick, Finn. Love it when David gives it to me.” 

Finn paused, and then took a deep breath before shrugging, “If that’s what you’re into. I guess it’s pretty tame compared to some of that stuff in your porn collection.” 

“Wait, that was true?” Kurt asked, and then quickly covered his mouth. “Nope. Sorry, off topic. I’ll ask David. What do you mean Puck’s not like me, Hudson.” 

“You’re not into girly stuff,” Hudson shrugged, “You don’t dress like you’re a girl.” 

“There’s a bunch of types of gay guys, Hudson,” Puck rolled his eyes, “Dave isn’t into chick stuff either. But there’s nothing wrong with it either, otherwise you’d never put up with a girlfriend.” 

Hudson frowned, and muttered, “It isn’t normal.”

“Who cares about normal?” Puck snorted, “Seriously, you think that the guys on the team would think it was normal for you to sing in the showers?” 

“That’s not the same thing,” Hudson folded his arms and looked at his knees. “Artie says-” 

“If Abrams told you to jump off a bridge, would you?” Kurt muttered, and the room went quiet.

“Hudson, I don’t want to be friends with this version of you.” Puck said after a long moment, his eyes dropping to the floor and his shoulders slumping, “For a long time, I’ve been stuck on the memory of the guy you used to be, but... Like I said, I have new friends now. Ones who like me for who I am, not just the bits they’ve got used to. I’m not going to stay away from Quinn, but I’m also not gonna cheat on Dave. I’m gonna let Hummel cook me fucking amazing food, and I’m gonna go to football practice with Evans and Chang. And... something with Mercedes and Tina. I don’t know, not as close with them.” 

“So that’s it? We’re just....done?” Hudson said, his voice softer than Kurt had ever heard it before. “You’re my best friend. I want to make it right.” 

“I don’t know how you do that. If you can, then you know where I’ll be.” Puck stood up, and started towards the door. Kurt watched as the other boy didn’t even pause in the door, and as it swung shut, there was a noise that sounded almost like a sob. Kurt turned towards Hudson, his face buried in his hands. 

“I...” Kurt started, taking a half step back before he caught himself. Hudson’s shoulders went tight, but he didn’t look back towards Kurt or move. “He cares about you. A lot.” 

“I care about him too.” Hudson muttered, shaking his head, “I don’t get how it got so bad. I did everything right.” 

“Not to put too fine of a point on it, but... if that were true, this wouldn’t be the situation.” Kurt moved slowly and sat down in the chair. “Hud-- Finn. Are you genuinely okay with him being gay?” 

“Of course I am.” Hudson’s head jerked up. “Puck’s been there for me my entire life. It hurts that he didn’t tell me, but...” He trailed off as he looked at Kurt again. 

“But why would he? You made it pretty clear how you felt about gay people.” Kurt shook his head. “I’m probably never going to get a chance to ask this again, so I’ll risk it. Why do you hate me, Finn?” 

“I...” Hudson frowned, meeting Kurt’s eyes and holding him there. “I’ll never admit it, but I was jealous.” 

“Jealous? Of what?” Kurt laughed incredulously. “Seriously, what could you possibly be jealous about?” 

“Lots of stuff,” Hudson shrugged, “You dress well, you always used to be so happy, you didn’t care what people thought about you. You’re smart, and you just got to sing and dance whenever you felt like it. You knew who you were whilst I was still trying to work it out. You have a dad. You always used to talk about how we weren’t going to be anything, and you were going to be a star.” 

Kurt blinked, and shook his head, “I’ve not been happy for a long time. I hadn’t sung or danced since the Glee Club auditions before...” He paused, and sighed, “I might have my dad, but I lost my mom when I was young. I miss her every day. And I’m not trying to be a star anymore. I just want to survive high school.” 

Hudson nodded along, and scratched his nails on his jeans absently. “It’s not nice, but it felt good to drag someone down into the mud with me. Push them down so I could keep my head above water.” 

“I know that feeling.” Kurt muttered softly, “I... had the opportunity to do the same, and it was really tempting. It honestly was. The only reason I didn’t was... I couldn’t imagine looking my dad in the eyes afterward.” 

“I didn’t have that. Every time I did something cruel, I’d have my friends telling me I’d done a good job.” Hudson paused, and cocked his head, “Mainly Artie. Maybe Puck had a point. It’s why I was so thrown when you said my dad would be ashamed of me. Cause everything I’d heard was about how I was doing the right thing, or the normal thing I guess. But my mom told me about how my dad had donated to all these charities whilst he was in the army, and- He didn’t die at war.” 

“He didn’t?” Kurt asked, and Hudson shook his head.

“He... got thrown out. He had a lot of problems. It turns out he wasn’t this perfect hero... but you were still right that he’d have hated the man I was becoming. Mom said he always hated bullies.” Hudson wiped at the back of his face with his jacket. “I just don’t know how to be anything else.” 

Kurt took a deep breath, and rubbed his forehead. “Stop hanging out with Abrams. I’d suggest the same with Coach Tanaka, honestly. Start thinking with empathy for other people.” 

“What does that mean?”

“How about this; how would you feel if guys a foot taller than you threw you in the dumpster?” Kurt suggested, “If you were slushied every day, and shoved into lockers.” 

“That’s the reason I do those things,” Hudson insisted, “If I’m not doing it, it’ll be done to me.”

“Are you sure? Because.... Mike Chang doesn’t do any of that, and I’ve never seen anyone bother him.” Kurt shrugged lightly, “Nobody’s done anything to Puck either, other than the fight in the hall.” 

Hudson frowned, as if considering something. “I guess...” There was a long pause, and Kurt started to stand, ready to get back to the others in the cafeteria, when Hudson added, “You liked me at one point, right?” 

“Honestly?” Kurt said, continuing to move until he was next to the door. “I liked the idea I had of you. It always felt like you tried to be kind to me, and it meant a lot when there was no-one else on my side. But you made it clear what kind of person you are.” 

Hudson nodded slowly, and then stood slowly. “How do I make it up to you?” 

“I don’t know if you can,” Kurt said carefully. “I just want to go to school and not get harassed. Maybe one day walk down the halls with my boyfriend and not be scared.” 

“You have a boyfriend?” Hudson frowned, but Kurt was beginning to realise it wasn’t disapproval but genuine confusion. “But Dave and Puck are dating... You’re not making one of them cheat, right?” 

“No. My boyfriend isn’t out.” Kurt rolled his eyes, “Mainly because  _ I’m  _ scared of what would happen to him if he came out.” 

Hudson nodded slowly. “Okay. I get it. I can... I can work on that.” 

“I can’t promise I’ll be able to forgive you, even if you do fix all the homophobia in Ohio.” Kurt admitted, and Hudson shrugged. The silence stretched out for a moment longer and Kurt turned towards the door again, “I’m going to leave. And I’ll forget the things we talked about.” 

“Don’t.” Hudson held up a hand suddenly. “I mean, don’t forget. And... I’m seeing a guy about my anger issues, and he’s good about the gay stuff... but if I need help understanding something, maybe I could text you?” 

He should just say no, but Kurt took a slow breath in and then nodded, “I can’t promise anything, but education is the only weapon against ignorance.” They stood for another moment, and then Kurt let himself back into the hall, walking as quickly as he could away from the room.

***

It was nearly Christmas when the next major drama occurred, and for once, Kurt had no part in it. Mike and Tina were being ridiculously sweet, sharing their food over lunch, whilst Dave and Puck argued heatedly, but fondly, about some sports event that Kurt didn’t watch. Sam sat on one side of him, and Rachel Berry on the other. Much like Mercedes had theorised, she had materialised at the table one day in the middle of a heated discussion about musicals, but the years had worn away some of the caustic nature, and Kurt quickly felt the need to take the more quiet and cautious girl into the group. 

The table felt a little cramped with ten of them around it, though Kurt might be playing that up to hide why his hand kept brushing against Sam’s as they ate.

"Did you hear?" Quinn asked the table in a low, gossipy tone that never failed to pique Kurt's interest. He could see that everyone else leaned into it too, even Dave who usually considered himself above the rumour mill. Kurt couldn’t blame them though, as there had been a strange tension throughout the school all day, not between the students but between the staff. “Figgins is out, so is Shue and Tanaka. They were told to pack up their desks this morning.”

“No way,” Puck said, his jaw dropping, “Why?” 

“No idea, but Mrs. Tanaka is staying.” Quinn looked around as though someone might be listening, “and they’re making Coach Sylvester the principal.” 

Kurt frowned, poking his food around the plate, “Is that a good thing, or a bad thing? I’ve managed to avoid all but her most violent rampages in the past.” 

“She’s... a lot.” Quinn said, cocking her head, “But she’s going to make this school the best school it can be, because it’s her school, and it reflects on her. If it succeeds, she succeeds. If it fails-” 

“I mean, she’s already got one problem.” Dave muttered, his eyebrows pulling together in concern. “No football team without Tanaka.” 

“She can hire someone else,” Puck waved vaguely, “maybe we’ll get that hot substitute teacher again for Spanish.” 

“Miss Holliday,” Kurt said with a small sigh, and Sam mock gasped looking offended, “She’s an icon.” Kurt continued, but knocked his shoulder against Sam.

“Maybe Miss Holiday would be interested in a Glee Club,” Rachel offered, hesitantly, and wilted a little when David rolled his eyes, “It was just a thought.” 

“I think that could be a good idea,” Kurt said, a little loudly as he untangled his foot from Sam’s to try and kick Dave in the knee. Unfortunately it was Puck who jumped and glared at him, tossing one of the gross cheese puffs he was eating at Kurt. “Dave isn’t a  _ terrible  _ dancer.” 

“I am. I hate it.” Dave muttered, rolling his eyes.

“That’s not what your friends at Scandals say, David.” Kurt said, casually sipping his drink as Dave turned red, “You’re quite popular.” 

“Yeah he is,” Puck said in a low voice, and David groaned in frustration. “What? You gotta admit you’re popular at the bar,  _ cub _ .” 

“Noah,” Dave growled, and Sam let out a small snort of laughter, which drew Dave’s attention to him. “Samuel.” 

“It’s better than Yogi, at least.” Kurt offered, and David turned to look at him scandalised.

“Kurt Elizabeth Hummel!”

Everyone laughed at that, and the tension was lost as they all began to chatter away. Kurt took the moment to scan the room, and as had become the norm in the past month, he didn’t flinch when he looked at the table full of popular kids. Hudson still held court, but Abrams was nowhere in sight. Rumour had it he had moved to a fancy private school. Hudson saw him looking, and gave him a slow nod that Kurt sharply returned before moving on with his examination of the room. They weren’t friends, they just tolerated each other, and Kurt was fine with that as long as it kept Puck happy. They might run into each other briefly when Puck insisted that everyone come to a celebratory house party, and he’d sit on the couch with Puck and Sam, and Hudson would ignore his existence unless he needed to tell someone to back off. Or when Kurt took an interest in showing up to Football games, and would cheer for McKinley with Tina and the other girls, and Hudson would glance up into the crowd at them. It was... fine. Hudson was just a guy. 

Sam’s fingers brushed against Kurt's and he looked back to his boyfriend with a smile. Sam gave him a silent questioning look, and Kurt shook his head lightly before he speared a piece of Sam’s pasta, or rather the pasta that Kurt and Sam had prepared last night and Sam had packaged away for his lunch today, before popping it into his mouth. Sam rolled his eyes, and Kurt could feel him wrap his foot around Kurt’s ankle, the jackets thrown over their seats hiding the intimate move from the world.

“Can you two stop making out with your eyes, and pay attention?” Mercedes muttered, and Kurt turned to her with a big grin, “I said, are you coming to the Rocky Horror show with me and Tina.” 

“But I’ve been already been making a man, with blonde hair and a tan,” Kurt said, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together under his chin, “and he’s good for releasing my... tension.” 

“Your boy doesn’t have a tan, Hummel.” Puck snorted, “Because you keep him in your basement all the time.” 

“I don’t think his boy is complaining,” Sam said casually, and there were groans around the table. “Hey, Dave and Puck make out in the halls. You don’t groan about that.” 

“Cause they’re both horndogs, you two are just sweet,” Quinn rolled her eyes fondly, and turned back to Mercedes and began discussing costumes for the movie.

“I’m thinking... winter break-” Sam said softly, his fingers brushing against Kurt’s hand, “-that’s when we come clean.” 

“I’m pretty sure everyone at this table already knows about us,” Kurt said with a small grin as he feigned ignorance. 

“I’m just saying. I see a really cute version of us coming back to school where you’re wearing my letterman jacket,” Sam practically whispered in Kurt’s ear, and Kurt hummed in thought. “What can I do to sweeten the deal?” 

“I suppose if we’re not getting out of going to watch the Rocky Horror Show, I could do with someone to play a Rocky against my Frank-n-Furter.” 

“Ooh, tough bargain.” Sam said with mock seriousness, “I get to see my boyfriend in fishnets and a corset, and in exchange, I get to tell the world I have a boyfriend. Seems unbalanced somehow, but I don’t know where.” 

“I don’t think I can help,” Kurt sighed with mock sadness.

“I guess I’ll just have to think about all of the pieces until they fit.” Sam said with the same tone, and then got a serious look in his eyes, looking off into the middle distance. “Okay... fishnets.... Fishnets...” 

Kurt let out a laugh, and bumped Sam again before turning to his food, and humming under his breath. Rachel cocked her head, and began to hum too, and the song passed around the girl half of the table before Kurt realised what exactly he had been humming.

_ Who can say if I've been changed for the better _

_ I do believe I have been changed for the better _

_ And because I knew you _

_ Because I knew you _

_ Because I knew you _

_ I have been changed _

_ For good _

“Gay.” Puck muttered under his breath, and Kurt let out a snort of amusement before tossing a piece of pasta at him. Feeling, for once, entirely calm and at ease with the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who read this story, and left comments cheering me along. It has really meant a lot to me, more than I really know how to write about. The sequel to this story is already in the works, and I can't wait to share that with you all too. Thank you once again.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please, let me know if there are any tags that you feel should have been implemented that aren't!


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